Not Another Time Travel Story!
by cto10121
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione go back in time to the Marauder era. Simple, right? And yet nothing is ever simple for the Golden Trio. Humor, drama, romance, and Voldemort guaranteed as the trio struggle to get back at their own time. J/L, H/G, R/Hr, S/OC. R&R!
1. Introduction

**A/N: I've always loved time travel stories, so I decided to write one myself! I hope you like it; it is kind of a Humor fic (what can I say? I have a great sense of humor). Well, enjoy!**

* * *

Introduction

"Dancing?!" Ron exclaimed, incredulous, staring at the notice paper as though it might disappear any second now. "You-Know-Who is back in power, there are more Dementor or Death Eater attacks, more murders, and they put up a class for _dancing_?"

It was a Saturday afternoon, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in the Gryffindor Common Room, back for their seventh and last year at Hogwarts. Hermione, using her pushy attitude and cool logic, had managed to persuade Harry to complete his magical education. Harry had reluctantly agreed, though on one condition: that they would not abandon Harry's quest to finding Voldemort's Horcruxes.

"Of course not, Harry," Hermione had said impatiently. "We know how important this mission is."

During the summer holidays, Harry had stayed with the Durselys until his seventeenth birthday, as it was Dumbledore's wish that he would do so. During the duration of his stay, Harry had mostly kept to himself in his room, the pain of Dumbledore's death still raw and fresh inside. By his birthday, however, Harry had finally resigned himself to Dumbledore's death, and to the fact that he would face his quest alone. Well, not _entirely_ alone. Ron and Hermione, in their tenacity, would stick by him, and for that Harry was grateful.

He had spent the rest of the summer holidays at the Burrow, his second home. If it weren't for the situation with Ginny, his stay would have been blissfully happy. Harry sighed morosely as he thought of Ginny. He was slightly regretted having broken up with her, but was too stubborn to retract his decision. He was determined to keep Ginny save, no matter how painfully awkward their present relationship was. He would protect Ginny, whether it killed him or not.

Hermione stared at Ron. "Ron, that has been on the notice board for five days," she said, her tone questioning Ron's sanity.

Ron's cobalt eyes nearly bulged out their sockets at this statement. "Really?" He turned to Harry, who looked equally surprised.

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Honestly, don't you two ever read the notice board? It is a new program they're testing out-Dancing Against the Dark Arts."

The program sounded so ridiculous that Harry and Ron burst out laughing.

"D-dan-dancing against the Dark Arts?" choked out Ron. "That must be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my entire life!" Harry nodded vigorously.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione snapped. "It doesn't matter if it _sounds _ridiculous or no, if it's going to help us against Voldemort-" Ron gave a small, barely perceptible twitch- "we should at least give it a chance!"

Harry shook his head ruefully as Ron opened his mouth to retort. It seemed that after six years of fighting and bickering, Ron and Hermione were still ignorant about their feelings towards each other. Or they were too stubborn to tell how they feel about each other. Ah, well. At least one thing was normal at Hogwarts; with the security tightened a hundred fold and the threat of Voldemort hanging like a palpable cloud over the castle, life at Hogwarts was anything but normal. Harry tuned them out, looking out of the window and at the periwinkle, cloudless sky, pondering what the future had in store for him next.

--

A little more than twenty years into the past, at the same day and time, Lily Evans and her two best friends, Natalie Potter and Alice Kalke were sitting at the Gryffindor Common Room, in almost the exact same position Harry, Ron, and Hermione were at.

"Did you see our schedules for today?" asked Lily, disgusted. She had shoulder-length dark red hair, ivory skin, emerald eyes, and a temper that was fervently feared by the population of Hogwarts.

"Yes," said Natalie, scowling darkly. "Just as I would've liked; to spent three whole classes with the Slytherins instead of the usual two." Natalie had long, black hair tied up to the side of her head, a thin face, and dark, hazel eyes. Known for her good-natured disposition and her witty comments, it was unnatural to see her scowling.

"I wonder why they made this year different," Alice commented mildly. Alice was the meek, gentle one in the group, with her chubby roundness, dirty-blonde hair and baby blue eyes.

"Perhaps they wanted the Gryffindors and Slytherins to finally do each other in," Natalie said dryly.

"I surely hope so," drawled the cool, suave voice of Sirius Black, Hogwarts heartthrob. Immediately, all the girls in the common room, except for Lily, Alice, and Natalie, found their eyes permanently glued to him. He, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew made up the Marauders, a group of mischievous troublemakers, always playing perpetual pranks on students, and an occasional Professor.

Today, however, he was completely alone, without even his partner-in-crime, James Potter, Natalie's cousin, and the object of Lily's sheer, unadulterated hatred.

"Hello, ladies," Sirius greeted them, flashing them one of his trademark smirks, causing every girl in the vicinity to sigh dreamily at him.

"Oh, it's you, Black," Natalie said distastefully. It was no secret that Natalie hated Sirius Black, and that the feeling was reciprocated strongly by Sirius. "What do you want?"

Sirius rolled his eyes at her. "Why must you always assume that I want something?" he complained. "Can't I just say hi to you without wanting something in return?"

"What is it?" Natalie repeated, unfazed.

"My business is with Evans, not you," Sirius said shortly. He turned to Lily. "Are you engaged next Hogsmeade weekend?"

Lily was horrified. "Oh, no, Black, not you too! I will _not _go out with you!"

"Bloody hell no, I'm not asking you, Evans!" Sirius grimaced, looking appalled at the very idea. "Nope, asking for ol' Prongsy."

"Who?" Lily was confused. She turned to Alice and Natalie, who both shrugged.

"Prongs," Sirius explained. "James' nickname."

"No! For a hundred times, no!" Lily raged.

"Actually," Sirius said matter-of-factly, calmly taking out a navy blue notebook and opening it. "It's, including those two nos, the five hundred and tenth time."

Lily looked like she was about to explode. She would've too, if Sirius did not speak.

"So, what do you say?" Sirius asked.

If looks could kill, Sirius would have been a pile of gray ashes on the floor where he stood. Of course, this was _Sirius_; he didn't seem fazed at the glare Lily was throwing at him.

"I'll take that as a no," Sirius said cheerfully, pocketing his precious blue notebook. "Aw, come on, Evans, James isn't _that _bad."

"Thank you, Padfoot, for that vote of confidence," said another smooth voice sardonically from at the bottom of the entrance to the boys' dormitories. James Potter walked over to them, apparently nonchalant. He, like Sirius, was very handsome, with his messy black hair and mischievous hazel eyes. He was second in line to inherit the title as Hogwarts heartthrob if Sirius were to drop dead, which was getting more and more likely by the day. Everyone knew that James had a huge crush on Lily Evans, who didn't reciprocate his feelings one bit.

"Hey Prongs!" Sirius greeted his surrogate brother enthusiastically. "I tried, mate, but she wouldn't accept."

James sighed, clearly disappointed. "Oh, well. Five hundred and eleventh time's a charm."

"You are the most despicable, big-headed, idiotic prat I've ever had the misfortune to meet!" Lily screeched at James, her emerald eyes flashing.

"You forgot arrogant," James pointed out calmly, cutting Lily's charade. "By the way, did I neglect to mention that you look absolutely gorgeous when you're angry?"

Lily looked as though she would murder James on the spot.

"But don't worry, Waterlily," James reassured her. "Padfoot won't ask you out for me again; I'll do it myself. After all, I am capable of asking you out myself." He shot a dirty look towards Sirius, who had put up his infamous 'I-didn't-do-anything-wrong' face.

"Don't--you--call--me--Waterlily," Lily managed through gritted teeth.

"I suggest you both leave us before Lily finally cracks," Natalie said wryly, before James could retort. "And before I might give in to temptation and curse Black for incurring my friends' wrath this fine evening."

"Ha, you wouldn't," Sirius snorted derisively, gazing haughtily at his enemy.

Natalie's eyes narrowed, a clear sign of danger. "Try me, Black."

James, keen on saving his best friend from the claws of his cousin, said, "Come on, Padfoot, we need to plan for our next prank, anyways."

"Right you are, Prongs," Sirius agreed. "So, without further ado, we'll take our leave." Both of them left the common room and out the portrait hole.

The girls were not very happy after that. Lily immediately got into a tirade against James while Natalie pretended to listen, all the while contemplating Sirius Black's immediate and untimely death. Alice ignored both of them, sighing dreamily as her thoughts drifted to a certain Longbottom boy…

**A/N: A bit of a slow start, but this **_**is**_** an introduction. Please review so I can know what you think of it!!!**


	2. Midnight Wanderings

The next day proved to be disappointing for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They hadn't made much progress in discovering any possible Horcruxes or the identity of the enigmatic R.A.B. Every free period they bury themselves in the library and search for books with information about the founders or for names that fit the initials R.A.B. The work was separated among them. Harry was searching on for items belonging to either to Godric Gryffindor or Helga Hufflepuff, Hermione was searching for items belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw, and Ron was searching for possible people who's names fit the initials R.A.B.

They haven't made much progress, however, until Ron made an announcement at dinner.

"Hey guys, I think I know the person who might be R.A.B.," he whispered without preamble.

Harry dropped his fork, clattering loudly on the silverware, gaining a few stares.

"Are you sure?" Harry made sure to keep his voice low. Hermione looked interested.

"I think so," Ron answered. "But I don't have enough information; Madame Pince was walking by and I pretended that I was doodling on a scrap piece of parchment-only she took it wrong and thought I was writing on one of her books."

Harry and Hermione tried to put on straight faces, but they failed completely.

"It's not funny!" Ron insisted, his neck reddening. "She tossed me out of the library! I have the bump on the head to prove it," he said, wincing slightly as he touched the swollen part on his head. "So now what?"

Harry looked around carefully before saying, "We'll simply have to go at night to get the book. You do remember which one?"

"Yeah, I made sure to write it down," Ron replied.

"But will we all fit under the cloak?" asked Hermione worriedly.

"We're Head Boy and Girl," Harry pointed out. "We can pretend to do rounds and Ron will use the cloak."

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed. "So we'll do it tonight?"

"Definitely," Harry answered. "At eleven."

--

"Ouch! Prongs-"

"Why did you say that to Evans, eh?"

"I was only trying to help-"

"Great, now you've ruined my changes with her-"

"She doesn't deserve you, mate-"

"You two are complete and utter idiots."

James and Sirius looked up, the latter stuck in a half nelson by the former. Remus Lupin had just walked into the boys' dormitories. Remus was the third and most responsible of the Marauders, with sandy-brown hair and blue eyes. He was quiet, hard-working, and intelligent. He was shaking his head exasperatedly at the pair, and looked as though this wasn't the first time he had found them in this position.

"James, please release Sirius," he said wearily. "And Sirius, do not do something involving Lily without James's consent next time."

James grudgingly released Sirius, who massaged his neck gingerly.

"Bloody hell, Prongs," whimpered Sirius, pouting. "Murder me why don't you?"

"You're lucky that Moony came, Padfoot," James said darkly, spoiling the effect by rolling his eyes at Sirius' dramatic tendencies.

"Well, someone has to keep you two from doing each other in," Remus said, plopping onto his bed and taking out a book to read.

"Sensible Moony," James said languidly, getting ready for bed. "What will we ever do without you?"

"Probably end up in Azkaban," Remus said vaguely, entranced in his book.

"Hey!" Sirius was rifling through his book bag. "I found a note!"

"Let's see!" James bounced onto Sirius' bed and took the note. "A romantic rendezvous, eh? 'Meet me at the old abandoned room on the fourth floor'. Who slipped you this?"

"I don't know," Sirius lied smoothly. "But I'll go, just the same."

"I don't know, Padfoot…" James said in mock-anxious voice. "You might get attacked by your fan club again…"

Sirius laughed. "Nah, they wouldn't do it again. Minnie pretty much chewed them out of that notion a long time ago."

"Well, good luck on your meeting," yawned James, getting to bed.

"Can I borrow your cloak while I'm at it?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," murmured James, already half-asleep.

Sirius got James' cloak from out of his trunk. He had recognized Natalie's penmanship and knew that she was requesting a meeting with him to discuss ways to get James and Lily together. But James and Lily couldn't find out; James would be annoyed that they had tried to help him in his pursuit of Lily and Lily…well, Lily would curse all of them from here to the moon and back again.

_Why did she want to meet me this late at night?_ Sirius wondered. _Remus and Alice are in this as well. Maybe I'll get answers later._

Sirius went into the common room and out through the portrait hole. He put on the cloak and disappeared into the night.

--

"Ron, can you bend down a little? Your feet are sticking out."

"Easy for you to say," came the surly mumble. "It's not easy being the tallest one in the group."

"We'll be found out if you two don't shut up!" Hermione admonished sharply.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking slowly down the corridors towards the library, Ron safely covered by the cloak and following close by.

They were near their destination when they heard it: a soft meow. They stopped right in their tracks and slowly, very slowly turned around. They were greeted by the sight of Mrs. Norris, her lantern eyes gazing sternly at them. A swish of her tail and she was gone.

"Filch!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned and ran-Heads or no, Filch would steam their hides if he caught them after eleven o'clock. Sure enough, they could hear Filch's wheezing from a distance as they ran. Looking around, they spotted a spare room and hid in it.

"Whew!" Ron panted. "That was a close call…"

But Harry, glancing at his surroundings, asked, "What is this room?"

They looked around in awe. The room was filled with weird, mostly silver instruments, not unlike the ones that were in Dumbledore's office. In fact, they looked almost exactly the same. Could McGonagall have stored them in here? It seemed doubtful, given her great respect for Dumbledore. The instruments were wiring gently, gleaming brightly in the pale moonlight that came from a nearby window.

"What is this place?" Hermione said in awe.

"Dunno…" Harry looked around, and something caught his eye. It was a Time-Turner. He picked it up, and suddenly realized that this was no ordinary Time-Turner. It had numerous dials on it, but the only number showing was zero.

"What is a Time-Turner doing here?" he asked, holding up the Time-Turner. "I thought that we destroyed the Ministry's whole stock.

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Maybe it belonged to Dumbledore," she suggested. "Maybe these are his belongings?"

"Dunno why McGonagall would dump them all carelessly in here," Ron said dubiously. He went for a closer look and accidentally bumped into Harry, who dropped the Time-Turner in his hands in surprise.

"Sorry," Ron grunted, taking off the cloak. "Forgot I had it on."

"'S okay," Harry assured him, but Hermione was staring at the Time-Turner.

"Look!" She pointed at it. The Time-Turner's hourglass and dials were spinning frantically, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at it anxiously. Finally, the hourglass and dials stopped spinning. The dials seemed to be stuck at a number…or was it a year?

"1977?" muttered Harry. "What-"

But he was interrupted by a loud bell toll. The ground began to shake violently, accompanied by a streak of yellow light, seeming to come from the Time-Turner itself. The bright, yellow light engulfed them all and a second later, they disappeared.

**A/N: Another cliffhanger! Not as bad as the others, though! Also not as funny as the first chapter. Reviews are so great, don't you think? I in particular love them (hint, hint).**


	3. An Enlightening Conversation

Chapter Two-An Enlightening Conversation

Harry opened his eyes. They were on the ground, in the same room they were in before, only it was empty. The silver instruments were gone, and only he, Ron, and Hermione were left in the room. Harry was sure it was the same room because the room was still bathed in moonlight as before. What had just happened? Ron and Hermione stirred, regaining consciousness.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" Ron echoed Harry's thoughts, puzzled.

"Nothing, I guess," Harry replied, but his intuition flickered; something _had _happened, but he didn't know what.

"Maybe we went back in time a few hours?" Hermione suggested.

"More than a few," Harry argued. "It is still the middle of the night…maybe we went back a day in time?"

"Perhaps," said Hermione. "Well, in any case, I think we should get back to the common room in the cloak, so that we won't get seen by our past selves!"

Harry and Ron nodded. But before they could do or say anything else, the doorknob to the room turned suddenly.

"Quick! The cloak!" hissed Harry and all of them put on the cloak, making sure to cover themselves completely.

The door slowly opened and a figure came out. The figure took a few steps forward and was immediately immersed in the moonlight. Harry was surprised to see that it was a girl around their age, and very pretty besides. She had long, sleek, ebony hair and mischievous, warm hazel eyes. She was pale, but then again, perhaps it was the moonlight that gave her skin that milk-white color. It suited her, though; she looked almost ethereal. Ron seemed incapable of taking his eyes of her.

"Who is she?" Ron mouthed at Harry, who shrugged. Hermione scowled, displeased.

The girl looked around for a moment, and then turned around, seemingly speaking to someone. "The room is empty, Sirius," she whispered.

Ron and Hermione's jaws dropped. Harry's heart almost stopped. _Sirius?_

Another figure entered the room and stood beside the girl. It was a handsome boy with long dark hair and mysterious silver-gray eyes. It was indeed Sirius, but not the Sirius that Harry had known; in fact, he looked the exact same age as Harry, Ron, and Hermione are. He looked even handsomer, if it was possible, than he did when Harry had saw him in Snape's memory in fifth year. He exchange looks with Ron and Hermione, who looked equally shocked.

"Now that we're here, Natalie, would you mind telling me why I am wasting my precious sleeping hours for?" Sirius said dryly, turning to the girl. "It must be important if you went as far as to call me by my first name."

"Oh, of course," Natalie snapped at him, her countenance expressing great dislike for the man in front of her. "Your precious beauty sleep is _far_ more important than Lily and James' present relationship."

Ron and Hermione had to clasp Harry's mouth to keep him from exclaiming.

"Whatever do you mean?" Sirius frowned. "They seem to be getting along well; Evans have least had stopped endeavoring to kill James. If you don't take to consideration the minor skirmishes between them."

"Black, you're so thick," Natalie said scornfully. "Of course they are getting along well; that's the problem! James has stopped asking Lily out and I bet you my entire dowry that she is disappointed by that. She probably thinks that he doesn't like her anymore. And since when Lily has tried to kill James?"

Sirius let out one of his trademark bark-like laugh, deciding to ignore that last question. "Oh, come of it. Lily has hated James for six years now. I bet she jumped for joy when Prongs have stopped asking her out. And Prongs hasn't stopped liking her. In fact, I think he-"

"Shh!" Natalie gazed sternly at him. "Even the walls have ears; do you want the whole bloody school to know that the great James Potter, second in line for Hogwarts' heartthrob, has fallen in love with Lily Evans?"

"You said it, not me." Sirius put his hands up in the air in mock surrender, his tone deceptively light and innocent.

Natalie growled, her countenance fierce. "You're trying my patience, Black! You don't want me to curse you, do you?"

"You know that I have too much experience of your curses to desire any more than is necessary," Sirius said sourly. "And instead of saying aimless threats at me, would you mind telling me why you dragged me in the middle of the night?"

Natalie's eyes flashed. "I need to know whether or not you'll help me in the endeavor to get Lily and James together."

There was a moment of silence. Sirius gaped at Natalie before saying, "Okay…what's the punch line?"

Natalie let out an exasperated growl. "Great, I ask you a simple yes or no question and you think it's a bloody joke! Fine, if you don't want to help then fine-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said that I didn't want to help?" Sirius said angrily. "All right then, I accept. By the way, who else is going to help get Lily and James together?"

"Remus and Alice," Natalie replied, looking a good deal calmer now. "I've already spoken to them and they agreed."

"So why did you have to schedule this meeting with me at this time?" whined Sirius.

"Two reasons," Natalie said solemnly. "One, because I'm evil-"

"Surprise, surprise," muttered Sirius darkly.

"-and two, because I hate you," finished Natalie, ignoring Sirius.

"Well, we have hated each other for six years," Sirius said matter-of-factly. "The whole bloody school knows of our enmity. We fight as constantly as Lily and James did, and that is saying something."

"Just one question," interrupted Natalie. "Do you really dislike me as much as you say you do?"

"No," Sirius said casually, and Natalie's eyebrows went up. He then added, "I dislike you much more than I say I do or what anyone says I do. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say that I hate you."

"Good," Natalie said briskly, going to the door. "I'm glad we're on the same page." And with that she went out of the room without another word to Sirius, who stared, stupefied, after her.

"That woman is going to be the death of me someday, I swear," Sirius said aloud to the whole room. Then he sighed, shook his head ruefully and went to the door. He had already opened the door when he suddenly halted, seeming to have realized something.

"What the bloody hell do you mean, James loves Lily?" he yelped, eyes wide, looking uncannily like a scared pup. "No, that can't be-Lady Disdain! Natalie! Wait up, you bloody harpy-"

His sentence was cut off with the door slamming closed.

Harry waited a few minutes before pulling off the cloak with shaking fingers. In the dim light, he could see that Ron and Hermione's eyes were wide, their faces shocked. Harry knew that he probably looked the same as they were.

"What in the bloody hell was that?" asked Ron shakily.

"I think…" suggested Hermione in a quiet, quivering voice. "I think we went back even further in time than I had originally thought."

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! Part of that reason was because the Internet service wasn't working adequately. Hope you enjoyed that chapter, I've tried to make it long, honest! Reviews are my life, so don't be shy about letting your opinions known!!!!**


	4. Dumbledore Returns

Chapter Three-Dumbledore Returns

Harry and Ron stared at her in disbelief.

"You think?" Harry was incredulous. "Hermione, they were talking about my parents! _My parents!_"

"Bloody hell." Ron looked dazed. "So that Time-Tuner wasn't just an ordinary Time-Turner."

"Speaking of the Time-Turner, where is it?" Hermione asked.

They all looked around; there wasn't a Time-Tuner in sight.

"Great, now what are we going to do?" Ron groaned.

"Go to Dumbledore," Hermione said decisively. "And explain our situation to him. He was still alive at that time-I mean, this time."

"That'll be a cheerful visit," Ron said grimly. "'Hello, Professor Dumbledore, we came from the future and we accidentally landed here in the past. Oh, and by the way, Snape's going to murder you about twenty years from now.' He'll think we're mad!"

"Honestly, Ron, we're not going to say that to Dumbledore," Hermione said sharply. "We'll just say that we are from the future and give nothing away. We have to be really careful of what we do here-what if we change something? A single mistake can change the entire future-"

Harry was silent as Hermione went over the rules of time travel. He was a little bit apprehensive about meeting Dumbledore again; although he had accepted Dumbledore's death a long time ago, he didn't know how he would feel to see him again, alive and well.

"All right then," Harry agreed, interrupted Hermione's tirade. "Should we go to his office now?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Let's go."

They left the room and went straight towards Dumbledore's office. Harry's apprehension grew steadily with each pace he took. What should he do or say to him? Even in his nervous state, however, Harry couldn't help noticing that Hogwarts was noticeably newer in this time. It was twenty years, Harry knew, that made the difference. In just a few minutes they arrived at the entrance to Dumbledore's office, the gargoyle staircase not as dingy as in their time.

"Oh," Hermione suddenly realized. "We don't know the password!"

"Really? Let's think," Ron said sardonically. "Which sweet did Dumbledore love more than any other sweet in the world?"

"Lemon drop?" Harry replied tentatively. The gargoyle stepped aside.

"See?" Ron pointed out as they climbed onto the gargoyle staircase. "It's easy."

"I've forgotten that Dumbledore was sometimes predictable," Harry admitted.

"Is," Hermione corrected. "We're in the past now. Might as well practice using past tenses."

Harry knocked on Dumbledore's door. They heard the usual soft "Enter" and they came in.

Everything was almost exactly as it was when Harry was last in it, except that he cabinet behind Dumbledore's desk was filled with empty butterbeer bottles instead of the Pensieve. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, looking tired but calm. Harry felt his throat clog with emotion. This was exactly what he was afraid of; it seemed that no matter how much time passed since Dumbledore's death, seeing him alive was almost overwhelming for Harry.

"What, students?" Dumbledore said, mildly puzzled. Then he noticed Harry. "Mr. Potter, not in trouble _again_?"

"Erm…" Harry trailed off. He knew that Dumbledore was probably confusing him with his father but didn't know how to correct that assumption.

A correction proved unnecessary, for Dumbledore, after a hasty examination, immediately retracted. "Oh-pardon me, young man. I seemed to have mistaken you for another student. You're not Mr. Potter, aren't you?"

"Er, yes, but I'm not James Potter," Harry confessed and Dumbledore frowned slightly in confusion. "I'm actually his son from the future."

Instead of looking shocked, Dumbledore looked almost thoughtful. "I thought it might be so," he said almost to himself. "Since you look extraordinarily like James. Now, please sit down, sit down, and tell me, what are your names?"

"I'm Harry Potter," replied Harry.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione answered nervously.

"Ron Weasley," Ron replied awkwardly.

"Weasley…" Dumbledore mused. "I had an Arthur Weasley once but he graduated two years ago, I believe. He is your father, I believe?"

Ron nodded, looking considerably relieved that he wouldn't be seeing his parents in this time.

"But I don't recall ever having a Granger at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, turning to Hermione.

"I'm a Muggle-born, sir," Hermione explained.

"Ah, I see." Dumbledore looked at all three of them. "Well, now that I know who you all are, how did you get here in this time?"

They explained how they got there, Dumbledore listening carefully and making no interruptions.

When they finished, Dumbledore remarked, "Intriguing. But why did you have such a need to go to the library so late at night?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances. Telling Dumbledore about the Horcruxes was definitely on the not-to-tell-or-else-you-will-endanger-the-future list. Besides, they couldn't know whether Dumbledore has already suspected Voldemort of having Horcruxes, or doesn't know about them yet. In any case, they couldn't reveal that fact.

"Ah, so you can't tell me," Dumbledore said comprehensively. "Very well, I won't press on. By the way, how did you know that you were in the past? Or, to be precise, twenty years into the past?"

They shifted in their seats uncomfortably.

"We overheard a conversation," Harry replied awkwardly. "They mentioned my parents."

Dumbledore nodded. "Would you mind telling me whom you overheard?"

"Um…" Harry trailed off awkwardly. He didn't want to put Sirius and the girl Natalie into trouble because of him.

"Don't worry, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said reassuringly, as though sensing Harry's reluctance. "I won't punish them for being out of bounds…if they don't get caught, that is."

Harry nodded, then said hesitantly, "Sirius Black and Natalie…sorry sir, I don't know her surname."

"Natalie Potter," Dumbledore said to him and Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged puzzled glances. "She is James' cousin, and by your countenances, I see you didn't know this."

"No, we didn't," Harry admitted. "But I guess it makes sense, that he has a cousin, I mean."

Dumbledore looked at all three of them. "Although the circumstances of you three being here is indeed mysterious, I will do everything within my power to get you all back safely to your own time. In the meantime, you all will pose as foreign exchange students, from a school in America. Your names shall be Harry Peterson, Ron Westley and Hermione Granger. Since you are a Muggle-born, it isn't necessary to change your surname," he added kindly to Hermione, who nodded.

Dumbledore paused, then continued, "I also must stress the importance of not revealing things that you feel will change the future. Although I do not know what the future holds, I know that, from the looks on your faces, the future is anything but light and fluffy."

"From the looks on our faces, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"You bear the looks of people who have seen and been through too much," said Dumbledore simply. "Especially you, Mr. Potter." 

They all nodded grimly.

"Anyways, I will introduce you three tomorrow at breakfast," said Dumbledore. "Extra beds will be provided in your dormitories-you are all in Gryffindor, correct?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded silently their assent.

"Normally, I would tell you your fellow classmates, but I have a suspicion you all already know." More nods. "Well then, good night…and good luck."

"Good night, sir," they murmured and they left Dumbledore's office.

"This has certainly been a weird night," Ron remarked as they began their trek to the Gryffindor common room

"Weird," Harry agreed.

They didn't say much after that, being too tired to talk much. When they arrived at the Fat Lady's corridor, Harry realized that he didn't know the password.

"The password is 'pig snout'," the Fat Lady said irritably, after Harry, Ron, and Hermione woke her up and explained that they were foreign exchange students. "In you go."

The trio went through the portrait hole to the empty common room, the embers of the fire already extinguished, rendering the room into darkness.

Hermione bid Ron and Harry good night and went to the girls' dormitories. It was then that Harry realized something.

"Ron, what about our stuff?" Harry asked him.

Ron blanched. "Bloody hell, that's right!" he exclaimed, slapping his palm to his forehead. "Oh, no…"

They both went dejectedly up to the boys' dormitories. It was dark, all of the inhabitants of the dormitory fast asleep. Careful not to wake them up, they slowly made their way to their beds, where they got the shock of their lives. Their trunks were there in front of their beds.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered, not eager to wake the slumbering boys. "Our stuff's here…but how could it be?"

Harry and Ron opened their trunks and searched for their pajamas.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed in a whisper. "I just realized-the Marauder's Map is gone!"

"And I don't remember having the Invisibility Cloak after we overheard Sirius' conversation," Ron recalled, pale.

"Do you think it may be a time thing?" Harry asked, rifling through the pages of his photo album and finding every page empty.

"Maybe," Ron said, unsure. "We'll ask Hermione in the morning. It's in her level of expertise."

Harry agreed, and they undressed, put on their pajamas and got into bed. They fell asleep in a couple of minutes, quite ignorant of what tomorrow's surprises will be.

**A/N: A chapter that doesn't end with a cliffhanger, now that's a first for me! I know some (coughalotcough) of you have been complaining for the myriad of cliffhangers and so I decided this chapter wouldn't be so. Reviews are **_**so **_**wonderful. I just **_**love **_**getting them. I hope you all got the less-than-subtle hints! Review, please!!!**


	5. Meet the Marauders

Chapter Four-Meet the Marauders

The next morning, Harry awoke to a blinding sunlight and voices. There was a noise of the hanging pulling apart.

"Ah, you're awake, then?" said a voice from beside him.

Harry put on his glasses and looked at the person who spoke. His heart began to throb painfully, excitement and shock coursing through Harry's veins like poison. It was like looking into a mirror, but with deliberate mistakes. James' eyes were hazel and he didn't wear glasses nor did he bore a scar on his forehead. But they had the same hair, same face, same nose, same eyebrows, and probably even the same height. Harry could now see why so many people said that he looked just like his father. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Hello, I'm James Potter," James said cheerfully, holding out his hand. "What's yours?"

It took a few seconds for Harry's brain to catch up with his heart. Harry grasped his father's hand and, throat dry, replied, "Harry Po-Peterson. I'm an exchange student from America."

"America? Then why do you have a British accent?" James asked, puzzled. At least there was no suspicion in his tone.

"We were born in England, but our parents decided to enroll us in a school in America," Harry said quickly, thinking fast.

James seemed convinced. Before he could ask any more questions, there came a yell of "Bloody hell!" from the bed on Harry's right.

"For Merlin's sake, stop yelling," muttered a voice that Harry vaguely recognized.

"Was that your friend?" James asked mildly.

"Yeah…his name's Ron Westley," Harry replied, his heart rate decreasing and his breathing slowing.

"Hey, Prongs!" Enter Sirius, who plopped undignified on the edge of Harry's bed. "Hey, James' twin; I don't think your friend likes me that much."

As if on cue, Ron appeared in his paisley pajamas, looking utterly haggard and rumpled.

"I woke up and _he _stood over me!" Ron pointed a shaky, accusing finger at Sirius. Harry knew Ron was remembering third year, when Sirius had sneaked into the boys' dormitory to get to Peter, and Ron woke up with a long dagger just inches above his nose. Harry had to bite down a laugh.

"It was unintentional!" Sirius said defensively, clearly thinking of another reason why Ron was so upset. "For your information, I happen to be Hogwarts' Number One Hottie! That means I'm into girls-get it? Into _girls_!"

"Ignore Sirius," James told Ron, laughing. "He's delusional. He knows quite well that _I'm _Hogwarts' Number One Hottie. He just doesn't want to acknowledge it," he added, joking.

"Tsk, tsk, Prongs," Sirius said in mock sympathy. "You are clearly the delusional one. Forget about him, mates. Anyways, I am Sirius Black, James' best friend, and head of the Marauders."

"Who are the Marauders?" Harry asked innocently.

"Me, Sirius, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew make up the Marauders," James told him proudly. "It is our little group of mischief makers and prank-lovers. Our mission is to lift the spirits of people in Hogwarts by making them laugh, and also to make trouble in every opportunity."

Harry and Ron tried hard not to laugh.

"We would introduce our two other friends, but they are at breakfast," James added apologetically.

"Speaking of breakfast, we must go," Sirius said, jumping up from the bed. "Remember Prongs?"

"Right, I almost forgot." James got up also. He turned to Harry. "Get dressed quickly and meet us down at breakfast."

"Right," Harry said, nodding.

James surreptitiously winked at Harry. "C'mon Padfoot."

The two boys went out of the dormitory.

"What do you think they'll do?" Ron asked Harry, as they both got dressed.

"A prank, no doubt," Harry replied. They finished dressing and went down to the common room, which was packed full of people.

"It must be weird, seeing your father and godfather the same age as you are," Ron muttered to Harry, keen not to be overheard.

"Weird," Harry agreed. He felt inwardly relieved. It appeared that Remus and Sirius were right; James had matured greatly, though he still had his love of pranks and troublemaking. Harry liked this James a lot more than the James he saw in Snape's memory in fifth year. He found himself fervently glad that he hadn't landed back when James was still immature.

He and Ron headed out of the common room and out the portrait hole towards the Great Hall.

--

In the girls' dormitory, Hermione woke up abruptly. Two girls were bickering loudly with each other. Hermione groaned inwardly and put her pillow over her head. But it was no use; she could still hear them.

"Natalie, please tell me where you went last night!"

"I did not go anywhere, specifically! I merely fancied a walk around the school-"

"You were out of bed, Natalie, and at night no less! You know that I am Head Girl-"

"What are you going to do, Lily? Put me in detention? I would like to see you try-"

"Don't tempt me-!"

"Please, guys, stop arguing," pleaded a third, more reasonable voice. "Calm down. Lily, if Natalie doesn't want to tell us where she was last night then we shouldn't pry. And Natalie, Lily was merely worried about you; next time try telling us if you're going out of bed, please."

The fog in Hermione's mind was slowly lifting…_Natalie_…_Lily_. Hermione opened her eyes in surprise. Lily-that was Harry's mother's name. She sat up in her bed and stretched. The two girls were still arguing loudly, despite the other girls' protests. Hermione quietly got dressed and pulled apart her hangings.

The three girls quickly got silent as they noticed Hermione's intrusion. Hermione recognized the dark-haired girl from last night, standing in front of a pretty redhead with emerald green eyes, whom Hermione deduced as Harry's mother. Between them was a cute, chubby girl with dirty-blonde hair and baby blue eyes whom Hermione did not know.

"Oh, sorry!" The redhead girl blushed, clearly embarrassed. "I didn't know you were awake!"

"It's all right," Hermione said reassuringly, smiling. "I'm Hermione Granger, a foreign exchange student from America."

"Pleased to meet you, Hermione," the girl said warmly, shaking her hand. "I'm Lily Evans, Head Girl." 

"Natalie Potter, hothead," the dark-haired girl said jokingly, shaking Hermione's hand in turn.

"Alice Kalke," Alice said quietly, also shaking her hand.

"We're all best friends…although you probably got that from our arguing," Natalie said with laughter in her tone. Unlike Lily, she didn't seem embarrassed at all. "Enough to wake the sleeping dead."

Hermione laughed at this. "No, no, I would've woken up anyways, sooner or later."

"So you're a transfer student from America?" Lily asked.

"Yes," Hermione said quickly. "I was born in England but my parents decided it would be best if I went to a school in America."

"Ah." Lily nodded. "Well, welcome to Hogwarts-although I feel compelled to warn you about a group of troublemakers."

Although Hermione knew what group of troublemakers Lily was referring, she asked, "What group of troublemakers?"

"They call themselves the Marauders," Lily said grimly. "In reality, they are just four teenagers our age that love to play pranks and get into detentions. Be wary of them; they might be good-looking, but believe me, falling for their charms will be the worst thing you'll ever do in your life. Worst of them is that arrogant James Potter-"

"I beg to differ on that," Natalie said dryly. "I believe that Sirius Black wins that award."

"Oh, come off it," Lily scoffed. "You only say that because he is your cousin and naturally you have a soft spot for him-"

"Excuse me," Natalie interrupted. "But I believe I am an excellent judge on arrogance, having lived with the human reincarnations for years-"

"Natalie hates Sirius, and Lily hates James." Alice translated for Hermione.

"Basically." Natalie laughed.

"We hate all the Marauders, except for Remus," Lily explained to Hermione.

"Oh, yeah, good ol' Moony," Natalie said fondly. "He isn't arrogant and insufferable at all. He's quiet, and a hard-worker. It is strange that he would hang around with James and Black."

"And we're not fond of Pettigrew," Lily added. "He's so…suspicious, I guess. And creepy."

"I agree with you on that one," Natalie agreed.

"Well, let's get down to breakfast," Alice suggested. "Maybe they won't be there to begin with. It's pretty early."

"Pah!" Natalie rolled her eyes. "They'll probably be there. Especially that Sirius Black. Disgusting pig; I don't know how he stays in shape when he eats so much!"

--

Many stares followed Harry and Ron as they went up to breakfast. Harry caught many whispers about him being so alike to James. It seemed that James was very popular, like Remus and Sirius had said.

When they arrived in the Great Hall, the stares seemed to have intensified. But unlike in Harry's time, the murmur of conversation had not lessened or dimmed. Harry knew that after the surprise wears off, he'd be ignored, which suddenly made him more cheerful; he had always hated the attention.

"Hey!" James waved over at them and Harry and Ron came to sit by James and Sirius.

"Guys, this is Harry Peterson and Ron Westley," James introduced them. "They are exchange students from a school in America, only they were born here, in England. And Harry, Ron, this is Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, our friends and fellow Marauders."

Harry's heart jolted as Remus Lupin smiled benignly at him, though looking rather pale and peaky (was the full moon approaching?). He had neat chestnut hair and wise, blue eyes.

"Pleased to meet you," Remus said amiably, shaking Harry's hand.

Harry turned to look at Pettigrew, who was glancing around shiftily. He felt a surge of anger rising within him. Did Peter know that in a few years he'd betray one of his best friends? Was he already in the league with Voldemort? Merlin's beard, just looking at the traitor made Harry feel repulsed. He stuffed down his animosity and gave a forced smile at the pathetic creature, offering his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Pettigrew squeaked, grasping Harry's hand. His grip was weak, unlike his father's, Sirius', and Remus' handshakes. Harry felt further disgusted.

"Nice to meet you," Harry lied through his teeth, then withdrew his hand.

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione called. She had just come came in with three other girls, one that Harry recognized as Natalie, from last nigh. His heart almost stopped as he saw on the redhead he recognized as Lily Evans…_his mother_. Excitement exploded on the pit of his stomach.

"Who is she?" James asked Harry.

"Hermione Granger," Harry replied. "She's been our best friend ever since first year."

Hermione and her newly found friends sat just a few seats away from the Marauders and Harry and Ron.

"Who are those girls with Hermione?" asked Ron to nobody in particular.

"They are Natalie Potter, Alice Kalke and Lily Evans," replied Sirius Black cheerfully, as soon as he swallowed his food. "Kalke and Evans are okay, but beware of that harpy, Natalie Potter."

"Natalie's not bad," argued James.

"Of course she's not," Sirius said with heavy sarcasm. Turning to Harry and

Ron, he explained, "Natalie is James' cousin, so he has a soft spot for her. They are almost like brother and sister. As for me, I firmly believe that Natalie Potter is a demon straight out from my own personal hell to make my life as miserable as possible."

James, Remus, and Peter laughed.

"Ignore Sirius," James advised Harry. "He and Natalie have been enemies since first year. Every time they meet, there's a kind of verbal skirmish between them, a battle of wits, if you will. It's very amusing-"

"Not as amusing as were the fights with Evans," sighed Sirius, his tone wistful. "A pity you guys don't do that anymore."

At the mention of Lily, James was suddenly quiet, and Harry caught him sneaking glances at Lily, his hazel eyes misty. It was the same look Hagrid had given Norbert, a baby dragon that Hagrid had owned in Harry's first year. Harry had to choke down a laugh.

"Prongs." Sirius tried to get James' attention, but failing miserably. "Prongs!"

"Forget about him, Padfoot," Remus advised. "He's in 'Lily Mode'."

"What is 'Lily Mode'?" Harry asked, curious.

"It's what we call when James gazes at Lily and forgets that anyone is around him," explained Sirius. "You see, James has fancied Lily Evans for six years now, but Lily has never reciprocated his feelings."

"He's decided to stop asking Lily out," Remus explained. "But he hasn't given up on her yet. It's his new strategy, and I must say, it's sort of working."

"Yeah, at least Evans doesn't yell at him anymore," said Sirius, rolling his eyes. "When James gets like this, he doesn't pay attention to anything anyone says. Watch," he added, and then turned to James.

"Hey, James," he said to him, "You have a monkey on your head."

"That's nice," James replied vaguely.

Sirius, Remus, Peter, Harry, and Ron sniggered.

"Don't embarrass James any further," chided Remus. "Now snap him out of his reverie."

"Yes, mum," Sirius said in a mock-serious voice (A/N: No pun intended!). Turning again to James, he said, in a lovey-dovey sort of voice, "James, I have to tell you something important, something that I have been wanting to say, but couldn't because I haven't been able to pluck up the courage…I love you!"

This statement was said so loudly that the students in the vicinity stared, amused; apparently, this wasn't the only time that Sirius made a fool of himself. Albus Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily in amusement while Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"It's true!" Sirius cried, putting his hands over his heart in a dramatic fashion. "And it hurts me that you would notice Evans and not me!"

James, finally snapping out of his trance, turned to look at Sirius, disgusted. "Who are you and what have you done to Sirius?" he asked in a freaked out tone.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I was just kidding," he said easily, and with that, the students laughed and returned to their breakfast. "It was the only thing that popped into my head to pull your eyes off of Evans."

"That was not funny-" James began, incensed.

"Hey, look, mail!" Sirius interrupted, pointing at the owls swooping down to deliver their mail. "And forget about Evans, Prongs; it isn't healthy, this-this obsession over her. I mean, she doesn't even like you-"

"Oh, she does," James cut in, and then proceeded to talk endlessly about his favorite subject while the others pretended to listen.

"Bear with him here," Sirius muttered to Harry and Ron before turning to his plate. "He'll stop…eventually."

"-then we'll marry and have cute children with black hair and green eyes-"

"Yes, and Peter will be the next Dark wizard, Lucius Malfoy will learn to love and tolerate Muggles and Muggle-borns, and Padfoot here will be the next Minister of Magic," Remus remarked dryly.

Sirius, who had been eating with disgusting gusto during James' tirade, was temporarily distracted by his task of eating everything his hands could reach.

"Ooo, me?" he asked with his mouth full, accidentally spitting on James. "Oo, 'orry, 'Ongs-" he swallowed.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Remus asked with concern.

Harry had choked on his pumpkin juice just as James had described his children's appearances.

"I'm all right," Harry assured him. "I just choked on my pumpkin juice."

Suddenly, the Great Hall was silent; Professor Dumbledore had stood up to make an announcement.

"This will probably the one time I make an announcement during breakfast," he began. "But today we have three new exchange students from a school in America joining our number to complete their last year of magical education at Hogwarts. They are Harry Peterson, Ron Westley and Hermione Granger. I hope you will all make an effort to make them feel welcome. Thank you."

Dumbledore sat back down. There was a buzzing following immediately afterward, some students stretching their necks to see the new arrivals. Harry ignored them, hoping fervently that they would quiet down by the end of the week.

"Come on, it's time to go to our first class," said Sirius, getting up. James, Remus, Peter, Harry, and Ron obeyed.

"Mr. Peterson, Mr. Westley," said a crisp voice behind them. They turned to look at the stern face of Professor McGonagall.

"Here are your schedules," she said briskly, and Harry and Ron took them. "I've already given a schedule to Miss Granger. I hope you enjoy your last year here…and try not to misbehave," she added, looking pointedly between Harry, Ron, and the Marauders. James and Sirius grinned, Remus sighed, and Peter simply chewed on his fingernails.

"Poor Minnie." Sirius gave a mock sigh of sympathy as soon as McGonagall was out of earshot. "Having to stand us every single minute of the day. But the way she talks about us, you'd think we were monsters!"

Harry and Ron had to use every ounce of their willpower not to burst out laughing then and there. _Minnie?_

**A/N: My fifth chapter! Hope you enjoyed that! Please review!!!!**


	6. Introductions, Classes, and Pranks

Chapter Five-Introductions, Classes, and Pranks

Harry was in a kind of daze as he and Ron followed his father-_his father!-_and his friends to their first class of the day: N.E.W.T. Transfiguration.

"What did you do at breakfast?" he vaguely heard Ron ask. "I thought-ouch!"

Harry stepped on Ron's toes to shut him up; expecting something from a group of people you supposedly did not know was a bad idea.

"Oh, that," Sirius said in a casual, though significant voice. "I did it when nobody was looking."

"You're brilliant, Padfoot," James complimented him fervently.

"Of course I am, Prongs, where've you been?" asked Sirius, mock-affronted.

"Wait, what did you do?" Ron asked, impatient.

"You'll see," James replied confidently. "Just wait until dinnertime; a pity that the spell activates only after a few hours eh, Padfoot?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Remus shook his head disapprovingly at the James and Sirius, even as his mouth twitched. Peter merely chewed on his fingernails nervously.

They arrived at Professor McGonagall's classroom about five minutes late ("We Marauders are always fashionably late," Sirius informed Harry and Ron proudly). The young Professor McGonagall's face wasn't as heavily lined as the McGonagall Harry and Ron knew, but the characteristic stern look was still there.

"Potter, Black," she barked. "You're late-and I see you've dragged Peterson and Westley along. Be late again and it would be detention."

"Minnie," Sirius began, winking roguishly at McGonagall, and Harry and Ron had to stifle laughs again. "You know that it breaks my heart for you to reprimand me on being late when I and my fellow comrades are late nearly every day!"

"It's fashionable, Minnie," James said in a deceptively solemn voice. "What would the others think, that the Marauders are _school lovers_?"

Sirius put the back of his hand on his forehead in an overly exaggerated dramatic fashion. "Oh, the shame! The results would be catastrophic!"

Many students snickered at the Marauder's performance, except for the girls at a nearby table. Lily narrowed her eyes and Natalie snorted. Alice shook her head ruefully and Hermione looked disapproving.

Professor McGonagall was not impressed. "Please take your seats," she said, almost wearily, as though she had also had her share of the Marauder's antics. She turned to Harry and Ron. "And I dearly hope that Peterson and Westley will not follow in your footsteps."

"No! Anything but that!" cried Sirius, as he, James, Remus, and Peter sat down on the table farthest from McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall actually rolled her eyes, something that Harry and Ron had no recollection of. "Now that Potter and Black had settled down-" James flashed a grin at McGonagall and Sirius had his famous I'm-innocent look plastered on his face- "Let us _finally _continue our lesson."

Today they were taking strenuous notes on human transfiguration. Or at least, Harry, Ron, and the other classmates were. The Marauders, (except for, of course, Remus) on the other hand, were not. Instead, James and Sirius were busy passing notes to each other and Peter was glancing around shiftily, writing some lines down now and then.

After Transfiguration, Harry, Ron, and the other Marauders were the first to exit out of the room.

"Finally!" Sirius inhaled exaggeratedly. "I almost suffocated in there!"

"I'm glad of it," said a cool voice, and they turned around. It was Natalie, with Lily, the dirty-blonde haired girl, and Hermione.

Sirius, for the first time since Harry and Ron met him, scowled darkly. "Of course you would wish for my death," he said scathingly. "What do you want?"

"We, unlike you, Black, have manners," Natalie retorted coldly, and Harry and Ron now knew that Sirius was not exaggerating when he said that he and Natalie were enemies. "We've come to greet the newcomers."

Turning to Harry and Ron, she smiled, her face transforming instantly; she suddenly seemed more approachable than the intimidating façade she put on for Sirius.

"Hi, I'm Natalie Potter, Black-hater extraordinaire," she said cheerfully, shaking Harry and Ron's hand. "His sister," she added, gesturing her head to James.

Harry and Ron exchanged puzzled looks. "Um…" Harry began haltingly.

Natalie turned to James. "You told them already?" she asked accusingly. "Bloody hell, James, I haven't done this in years and when I finally get the chance to do it you ruin it!"

"Oh, come off it," said James, rolling his eyes. Turning to Harry and Ron, he explained, "Natalie likes to do this little game with people by saying that we are brother and sister; we look so much alike, see, and for some reason she loves to en."

"And you're a bad brother," Natalie muttered. "Ruining it like that for me."

"Oh, quit whining, Natalie; you're too old to play those games anyhow," Lily admonished gently. Turning to Harry and Ron, she extended her hand and said, more formally than Natalie, "Hello, I'm Lily Evans, _Potter_-hater extraordinaire," she added, pointedly looking at Natalie, who muttered, "Copycat."

As Harry enclosed his hand around his will-be-in-a-few-years mother, he suddenly realized that this was the first time he'd seen her, alive, and not just in a photograph. Inspecting her, he saw that she was pretty, with long, shoulder-length dark red hair and almond-shaped emerald green eyes…exactly like his. He let go of her hand reluctantly.

"Alice Kalke," Alice said shyly, and Harry realized, with a pang, that this must be Neville's mother. He wondered briefly what Neville would say-or do-if he was with them.

_Probably faint, _Harry thought wryly.

"Now that the introductions are over with, we all must go to our next class," Natalie said decisively.

"Yeah, we won't be seeing you," Lily said scornfully.

"'Bye," said Alice simply.

Hermione said nothing, merely gave Harry and Ron a look that meant that she would talk to them later. The girls disappeared.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" asked Ron to nobody in particular.

"Women," Sirius sighed, with the air of someone who knows that subject pretty well. "My motto concerning them is: you can't live with them, but you can't live without them."

"Hear, hear," James agreed sullenly, looking at Lily's retreating back.

"You guys are simply pathetic," Remus observed. "First there's James, who is hopelessly in love with Lily, and then there's Sirius, who is in love with Natalie, but still denies it."

"What?!" yelped Sirius. "Are you mad, Moony? In love with that-that harpy? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

"I don't know, Padfoot," James said suspiciously, eyes narrowing. "You seem to talk about her quite often if you ask me."

"If you find talking about her and _complaining _about her synonymous, well that's your problem," said Sirius sulkily. "But that doesn't mean that I love her, even _like_ her!"

At this point, Sirius began a long tirade against Natalie, whom he liked to call, to Harry and Ron's humorous observation, "Lady Disdain". Remus merely sighed, and said, "I'm surrounded by idiots," but only for Harry and Ron to hear.

The rest of the day seemed to pass without incident. Harry and Ron even caught a glimpse of a teenage Severus Snape at Potions. He was the same as when Harry had seen him in the Pensieve, only taller and possibly even greaser than before.

"There goes ol' Snivellus," Sirius had remarked grimly, who was partnered with James.

"We're enemies," James explained to Harry and Ron, who were sitting close to them. "Have been since first year."

"We used to prank him a lot during the years, but thanks to Evans, James was pretty chewed out of that notion," said Sirius sourly.

"But we're going to play a prank on him," said James. "Practically harmless…though humiliating for him."

"What is it?" Ron asked eagerly.

"You'll see at dinner," James merely said.

After Potions, there was Care of Magical Creatures class, taught by a one Professor Kettleburn, whom, according to James and Sirius, was new to the post. There, Harry first witnessed James current relationship with his mother.

"Oh, no." Remus had groaned. "Prongs is at it again!"

"I can't bear to watch!" declared Sirius, and promptly turned away.

Harry and Ron had turned to see James approaching Lily. Harry had unconsciously tensed, and hoped that this encounter would differ from the lake scene in fifth year.

"Hey, Lily," James had begun smoothly; Harry was mercifully thankful that James had lost the habit of rumpling up his hair.

"Hey yourself," retorted Lily. "I haven't forgotten what Black had said to me-asking me out for you…and I thought you could sink no lower…"

James, however, didn't look the slightest abashed. "Sirius here was only thinking of me when he did that. Besides, he paid for that."

Sirius had rubbed his neck subconsciously.

"Well, now that that's cleared up, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Harry had held his breath, but Lily merely replied, "In your dreams, Potter." Harry had sighed, relieved.

"Well then, if you won't go out with me, will you marry me?" James asked. He even got down on one knee.

It was just too good to be true. There was a resounding _slap_, and Lily's palm had contacted James' cheek, leaving quite a red handprint on it. On the other hand, Harry had to admire his father's audacity.

"You are an imbecile, James!" Lily had yelled. "I will _never _go out with you, much less marry you!"

With that, she had turned and headed away.

"Bad luck, Prongs," Sirius had said sympathetically. "Five hundredth and thirteenth time's lucky, right?

"At least it wasn't as bad as any of the other times," Remus had said helpfully.

But James didn't appear to listen to any of them; he had a dazed, unfocused look on his face, and he seemed to have been staring into space. Sirius, Remus, Harry, and Ron exchanged apprehensive glances, fearing that James had finally felt pain from Lily's rejections-

"She had called me James," James had spoken in a mesmerized voice, touching his red cheek and looking as though he was flying on a cloud. "She hadn't, in six years, done that before."

Sirius, Remus, Harry, and Ron exchanged incredulous glances.

"James?" asked Sirius innocently.

"Yes?"

"You're pathetic."

"I know."

--

'That Potter-"

"Please, Lily, have mercy on our ears and give up on your tirade," Natalie said dryly.

It was finally dinnertime, and Lily, Natalie, Alice, and Hermione were sitting together. Hermione had been accepted in their circle of friends, admired by her cleverness and brainpower, not to mention her loyalty and daring. It certainly felt strange for Hermione to be friends with girls her own age; Harry and Ron were the only friends she had at Hogwarts at her time. It was nice to find, despite her lack of knowledge about maintaining friendships with girls, she was quite good at it. Having girlfriends, I mean.

And Hermione quite liked her new friends. Natalie was very charismatic with her dry humor and good-natured disposition. Coupled with her stunning looks, she must be one of the most sought-after girls at Hogwarts. And Lily was feisty and headstrong, though kind and considerate, if only a bit tenacious. Alice was gentle, shy, and served as a peacemaker for Natalie and Lily's arguments.

"Don't you have anything better to do than to complain about my cousin?" Natalie asked mildly, raising her eyebrows wryly. "I lost that habit a long time ago."

"Oh, ha ha," Lily said sarcastically. "Hark who's talking, you complain about Sirius at every given opportunity!"

"That's because Black is so easy to complain about," Natalie rebuked smoothly. "Now, enough about them, or we'll both lose our appetites."

"For once, I actually agree with you on this," Lily said wryly. "Now then, Hermione, did you say that Harry and Ron has been your best friends for six years, correct?"

Hermione nodded. "We've been through so much together. We're really close."

"As it should be," Natalie said, nodding. "Lily, Alice, and I are also very close."

"Did you have any boyfriends at your old school?" Alice asked quietly.

Hermione blushed. "No," she replied.

"Any crushes?" asked Natalie.

Hermione blushed even further. "Maybe."

"That means yes!" Lily exclaimed. "Well, come on, spill the beans-what's he like?"

"Well, he is funny, tactless sometimes, but he's really loyal," Hermione replied, her thoughts drifting toward a certain red-haired boy…

She was suddenly brought back to earth by Natalie's voice saying, "Hey, isn't that Snape?"

Hermione turned to look at where Natalie was pointing. It was indeed Severus Snape, oily and greasy as ever, heading purposely up toward the High Table. Hermione and the others all frowned, puzzled by Snape's unorthodox behavior. They weren't the only ones, either; most of the Great Hall noticed Snape and many bewildered eyes followed his path to the High Table. At first, Hermione thought that Snape might be heading for Dumbledore, but she was proven wrong when Snape walked past him, not looking at him, toward Professor McGonagall. Then, he did the most outrageous thing: he took McGonagall's hand and kissed it, drawing many gasps of shock.

"Oh, my dearest Minerva!" Snape exclaimed, in a voice that undoubtedly carried, kissing her hand again. "All these years of keeping silent, all those years of nonverbal agony, all those years of bottled passion! But no more; I can't stand it-Minerva, I love you!"

There was a shocked silence. Finally, the whole Great Hall started sniggering, trying to sustain their mirth, all the while Snape kept showering McGonagall with declarations of love.

"-Minerva, the goddess of wisdom, and the goddess of my heart as well-"

"Mr. Snape, please stop this nonsense!" commanded McGonagall, although a dull flush crept up her face.

"It is true!" cried Snape, dropping to his knees. "'Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! Has my heart loved till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night!' Minerva, my darling-"

It was too much: the whole Hall erupted with side-splitting laughter at Snape's generous use of Shakespeare. Professor McGonagall, however, shook with anger, Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with amusement, and most of the staff seemed to double up on silent laughter.

"Get away from her, Snape!" Everyone turned to stare at Horace Slughorn, rotund as ever, standing up, visibly bristling with anger. He went around the table, approaching Snape and McGonagall.

"You filthy vermin!" yelled Slughorn. "She doesn't requite your love, for she loves me, and only me!"

Most of the Great Hall cracked a rib or two at this: first Snape, now Slughorn?

"Get away from her!" snarled Snape, taking a protective, territorial stance in front of McGonagall. "Why would she like you, you fat excuse of a pig?"

"Greasy git!" shouted Slughorn.

"Stupid, dull-witted walrus!"

"Unhygienic, insufferable prat!"

"I challenge you to a duel for Minerva's hand!" Snape cried, brandishing his wand, looking hilariously foolish.

"As the Muggles say, bring it on!" Slughorn shouted, also taking out his wand, looking half-mad.

It was an amusing sight, a lanky teenager and a rotund, middle-aged man fighting over a stern Professor. Before either of them could make a fool of themselves, there came the cry of, "_Finite Incatatem_!" A flash of bright light, and Snape and Slughorn blinked and shook their heads as though waking up from a sleep. Albus Dumbledore had gotten up, his wand out. The Great Hall fell quiet.

"Goodness, that was quite a show, and splendid wand work," Dumbledore complimented mildly. "But unfortunately, it is time to go back to our meal." He therefore sat down, surreptitiously winking at certain six boys, who were invariably shaking with laughter.

**A/N: Sorry I took so long! As you can see, this chapter is long. Hope you enjoyed that, especially that last part. I really enjoyed writing that. Please review!!!**


	7. Suspicions

Chapter Six-Suspicions

The Marauder's popularity increased dramatically after the Snape/Slughorn prank. Left and right, people were congratulating the Marauders (well, mostly James and Sirius, though Remus sometimes did get his share-Peter was simply ignored) on their most brilliant prank ever. The Marauders had also their fair share of women, too; even Peter had some respective beaux simply by being in the Marauders.

Snape, however, seemed to get even more unpopular, if possible; he was constantly being teased and jeered everywhere he turned. Of course, no one could tease Slughorn (after all, he was still a teacher) but some students couldn't help but snigger whenever Slughorn was around; they couldn't help remembering his act of hilarious jealousy. Slughorn put on an indifferent façade, but anyone who was paying attention could see the flush that often crept up his plump face.

Professor McGonagall dealt with the matter a lot better than Snape or Slughorn. She simply carried on with her lessons, and whenever a student sniggered, her steely, intimidating gaze was enough to make him quiet. In any case, no one dared to make fun of McGonagall. Even James and Sirius, who had taken the habit of teasing her about two-timing Snape and Slughorn, knew their limits.

Two weeks or so passed like the wayward wind, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were having the times of their lives in the past, especially for Harry, since it meant spending time with his father and his friends. All the whispers about him, Ron, and Hermione slowly subsided and Harry was, for the most part, ignored (he couldn't deny that it was a nice change).

"But we shouldn't get attached to them more than we already are," Hermione had told Harry and Ron nervously. It was a very sunny Saturday afternoon, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were huddled near the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. "Remember, Dumbledore will find out a way to get us back to our own time, sooner or later."

"Come off it, Hermione," Ron said breezily. "That's exactly the point; we have limited time here in the past-might as well use it for all our worth."

Harry agreed with Ron. It was his chance to finally know his parents, and he wasn't going to pass it up.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "Don't you see? We must be careful! A single mistake could jeopardize the future! We must lie low and not draw attention to ourselves and not give anyone a reason to suspect us."

"Suspect us of what?" chortled Ron. "That we're mass murderers escaped from Azkaban?"

"Ha, ha, very funny," Hermione said sarcastically as Harry snorted with laughter. "You know full well what I mean. They mustn't know that we're from the past…what if we let something slip?"

"Loosen up, Hermione," Ron advised lazily. "They seemed to have bought our story, and we haven't slipped up-"

"Yet," Hermione snapped. "If you two keep up that attitude, we might as well, shout for the whole world to hear that we're from the future-"

"Speaking of shouting, keep it down, Hermione," implored Harry. "We're not stupid-"

"-you could've fooled me," grumbled Hermione.

"-we'll keep that we're from the future a secret," Harry continued. "As long as we don't slip up and we stick to our story, we'll be okay."

"Yeah, Hermione," Ron said thickly, (he was eating treacle fudge) "Stop being so nervous."

Hermione bit her lip, but said no more.

--

Natalie's gaze shifted to the threesome across the room. Lily and Alice were talking in the background, but Natalie didn't listen; her attention was on the three mysterious exchange students. They appeared to be talking-or rather arguing. The one called Westley was gorging himself on some treacle fudge with the same enthusiasm of that despicable arse, Sirius Black. Natalie's eyes then traveled to Peterson and was again struck by how uncannily similar he and her cousin was-in terms of appearance, of course.

Natalie felt a tinge of unease. No matter how much she told herself that Peterson was merely a foreign exchange student from America, Natalie couldn't shake off the feeling that Peterson and the other two was hiding something. Natalie couldn't help remembering how his gaze lingered on James and even Lily. When he and Lily were shaking hands, his eyes had flickered with emotion. Did he like her? That would probably be a reasonable conclusion, but Natalie was not sure. A nagging feeling told Natalie that it wasn't it, that it was something else. But what?

"Natalie!" Natalie jerked out of her reverie and faced Lily, who looked rather worried.

"You seem distracted," Lily pointed out. "What's the matter?"

Natalie gestured with her head toward the threesome. "Them. Something about them is so…"

"Strange?" Lily asked.

"Unusual?" Alice offered.

"Yeah," Natalie said, nodding. "You guys felt it too?"

"They seem okay," said Alice quietly. "But I got the feeling that they're hiding something."

"Especially that Peterson guy," Lily added. "Though he doesn't seem bad; he looks very much like Potter, but he doesn't act like him."

"Perhaps we are just exaggerating the whole thing out of proportion," Alice suggested. "We can't really be sure if they are hiding anything."

"Probably just our imaginations," Lily said, assuring. "They seem fine."

Natalie stayed silent. She wished she could share the same thoughts as Lily and Alice's, but the nagging, thoroughly irritating feeling just wouldn't go away. Perhaps she should investigate them, just so she could ease her uneasiness. Besides, it wouldn't do any harm to see what's up with them if they're innocent, right?

--

The next day, Harry and Ron went down to breakfast and were greeted by somber faces.

"What is it?" Harry asked the Marauders, taking a seat beside James.

"Here," James said glumly, handing his copy of the _Daily Prophet _to Harry. Harry received it and gaped at it; on the front page was the black-and-white picture of a Dark Mark. Harry read the article; it was about a Death Eater attack on the McKinnon house; no one had survived.

"Bloody hell," muttered Ron, looking pale.

"Yeah," James said gloomily. "Poor Marlene. She's the last McKinnon now."

"She's a Ravenclaw," said Sirius sadly. "She's a year ahead of us. I dated her once in my fourth year."

Harry exchanged significant looks with Ron. Marlene McKinnon had died in the last war in their time. She would be a kid in this time.

"We must lift the spirits of people with a prank," declared Sirius.

"Is it too soon?" James asked hesitantly. "They've only got the news today."

"You're beginning to sound like Moony," said Sirius, surprised.

"Well, I'm quite glad that some of my maturity and sensibility has rubbed off on one of you at the very least," commented Remus dryly.

Harry looked down at his plate. Suddenly, he wasn't feeling quite hungry anymore. He had forgotten that Voldemort was still powerful in this time as well as in his. He dearly hoped that his arrival wouldn't get Voldemort interested in him. Hermione was right; it was best to lie low, at least for the time being.

--

James surveyed Harry carefully. It still struck him as much as the first day he met him, the strange and mysterious likeness. They could easily pass off as twins…if someone doesn't notice the eyes, or the weird scar that Harry had.

Those green eyes…they looked so familiar. Part of the reason James felt comfortable around Harry was because of those eyes. The other part was that the boy had a subtle charisma about him that made it impossible to dislike or even hate him.

And what was it about that scar? That lightening-bolt scar was one of the first things James noticed about Harry, but didn't comment about it. He sensed that that scar was a painful subject for him.

James ate, all the while thinking about the quiet boy sitting next to him. Harry radiated a different kind of maturity that even James did not have. It made him seem older, more experience. But really, what had happened to rob Harry's childhood carelessness?

Perhaps he was digging too deep into this boy. Perhaps there was nothing there at all. James wasn't sure, but he knew this: something was up with Harry Peterson, and he would not rest until he discovered it.

**A/N: Oooh…they are getting suspicious of the trio! What will happen next? Only I know (Muahahaha!). Yes, I know, not as long or as active as either of my chapters but hey, I needed to establish that they are getting suspicious. Also, I'm sorry about the short explanation of the McKinnon's murders; I wasn't in my creative mood that day. Please read and review! Oh, and I thank everyone who reviewed for this story! You're my first reason that I keep updating! Thanks, review!!!!!!!!!**


	8. James's Rival

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I am merely an obsessed fan, writing Harry Potter fan fiction on my computer, motivated by my joy of writing and your reviews. Which reminds me-please read and review!!**

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Chapter Seven-James's Rival

Although Harry had a good time bonding with his father and his friends, he couldn't help but want to get to know his mother too. The Marauders and Lily's group were not usually in speaking terms with each other (Natalie and Lily both refuse to "suffer through" Sirius and James' presence, though they did talk to Remus at times) and so Harry hardly spoke to his mother. He summoned his courage and asked Hermione how she is like (though Harry had thought Hermione's smile seemed a bit too understanding for his liking) and he was greeted with the sight of Hermione lavishing praises on her.

"I've never expected for your mother to be so _wonderful_," Hermione gushed, (A/N: Hermione gushing…who would've thought?) her eyes bright. "We have so much in common with each other and we have the same likes and everything! She's so sweet too, and considerate-"

As Hermione continued, Harry listened, albeit a bit too eagerly. He then felt his spirits falter. Lily seemed smart, responsible, rule abiding, while James was happy-go-lucky, reckless, playful, and an all-around troublemaker. Harry still couldn't wrap the idea of Lily marrying James around in his head when they were two completely different people. Perhaps their case was just like Ron and Hermione's; the differences between them were-or would be, now that they were in the past-the foundations of their relationship.

But while Ron and Hermione bickered like an old married couple, Lily and James seemed to have formed a nonverbal agreement of some sort, which explained their present compatibility. Though he seemed to have given up asking Lily out and have matured considerably, James refuses to give up on her while Lily was determined not to date James. Really, it was hard to decide which side Harry had gotten his stubbornness from.

The next day, however, proved to grant Harry's wish. James, Remus, Ron, and Peter had taken Sirius to the hospital wing. Harry didn't know much about the whole ordeal, but it seemed that Natalie had given Sirius magical breast implants. So Harry went down to breakfast alone. And who should be there but Lily, who was also alone?

"Hey, Harry!" Lily waved at Harry-a gesture meaning that it was safe to approach her, Harry thought wryly. Harry walked over to Lily and sat next to her, suddenly nervous. What will he say? What will they talk about? Merlin, why was his brain all of a sudden blank now?

But Lily seemed to take matters into her own hands. "So, how do like Hogwarts?" Lily asked him.

"Great!" Harry exclaimed, wincing mentally at how hearty his voice sounded. "I mean, better than our school anyways."

"Do you miss it?" Lily asked, curious.

"You mean, my school? Nah," Harry replied, his nervousness growing by the second; after all, it wasn't everyday you get to actually talk to your dead mother-or would-be mother at any rate. "The American kids aren't really very tolerant of habits and accents different from theirs. I usually get picked on."

"Really? That's horrible!" Lily exclaimed. Harry felt slightly at ease, marvelling at how fast his brain came up with that excuse. Perhaps years of wiggling-or weaselling-out of trouble have finally taken its toll.

"It isn't really," Harry assured her. "I was used to it, and I had Ron and Hermione."

"It's a bit odd," Lily said in a strangely casual voice. "That you, Ron, and Hermione seemed to be the only British students at your formal school."

Harry's heart raced. "Oh, er…" he said uneasily. "Well, not a lot of British parents would send their kids to an American school. I'm lucky that there were even two other British kids my age."

"That's true," said Lily, although a note of suspicion was still evident in her voice. "By the way, what's the name of your school? I don't think I have read about American schools before."

Harry almost blanched. Not even his brain would be able to make up a name out of thin air. Great, he was about to be discovered and he was barely, what, a month in Hogwarts? He had to try, though.

"Er…" Harry thought as though he had never thought before. But before Harry could say anything else, a shout diverted Lily's attention from him.

"Hey, Lily!"

Harry turned to the direction of the voice, nearly giving into temptation and kissing whoever has said that senseless. However, the urge quickly vanished when he saw that it was a _boy _that had said that. It didn't lessen his gratitude for a distraction, though.

He had chocolate-brown, curly hair and unusual indigo eyes. His features looked delicate, almost girlish. He had black robes with the Ravenclaw crest on it, making it more than obvious which house he belonged to. He smiled at Lily, who smiled vaguely back.

"Mind if I join you?" the boy asked Lily.

"Er…sure, Gabriel," Lily answered and the boy, Gabriel, took a seat across from Lily.

"Gabriel, this is Harry Peterson," Lily introduced them. "And Harry, this is Gabriel Adams, a Ravenclaw prefect."

"Hello," Harry greeted him and Gabriel nodded in his direction. Then he turned away from him and addressed Lily once more. Harry felt annoyed.

"Lily, how are you this fine morning?" Gabriel asked smoothly. "You are as beautiful as ever, I see."

Harry stared at him, the irritated feeling growing, extinguishing all the prior gratitude he had felt towards him. Did he just _flirt _with his mother just now?

"I am fine, thank you," Lily replied, a faint tinge of pink on her cheeks at the compliment, though she did not verbally acknowledge it. "And how are you?"

"A lot better now that I am with you," Gabriel said, his smile widening. Harry felt his dislike for him grow. The audacity, to blatantly flirt with Lily while his son was watching! Well, technically, he did not know that Harry was her son, but _still_…

"You flatter me too much," Lily retorted, the pink tinges growing. Harry prayed to every god he could think of to do something to get him out of this embarrassing predicament. A thunderbolt would suffice.

"Adams, what are you doing here?" Or maybe not.

At that moment, Harry found it hard to believe that some people were atheists. Harry turn to look at savior, only to see James standing behind him, looking coldly at Gabriel. Remus, Ron, and Peter were behind them, Remus shaking his head, Ron looking thoroughly confused, Peter looking eagerly between Gabriel and James, as though expecting a fight to break out then and there.

Gabriel finally ripped his gaze off of Lily and turn to glare shamelessly at James. It was clear that he did not appreciate James' interruption. Lily looked both embarrassed and angry.

"I should be asking the same thing, Potter," Gabriel said coldly. "Weren't you supposed to be in the Hospital Wing with Black?"

"I was," James said shortly. "Sirius insisted, however, for us to go to breakfast. Lucky we did too, eh?"

Gabriel's face turned an unsavory shade of red that did not compliment his pearly white skin. Harry felt a thrill of pure satisfaction at seeing James humiliate Gabriel, which was kind of OOC of him, but he didn't care.

"By the way," James said smoothly to Gabriel. "You are sitting in our spot."

The message was clear: _Get out of my sight or else_. Shooting a look of pure loathing at James, Gabriel stood up, said a apologetic reply to Lily and went back to his own table. James sat down in the seat Gabriel had previously occupied, looking satisfactorily pleased, Remus and Peter following suit.

Lily stood up and without a word went over to sit next to her friends, shooting a disapproving look at James that suggested that she did not like the way he handled the situation.

"What in the bloody hell just happened?" Ron asked nobody in particular. Nobody answered.

"Merlin, how I dislike that Adams!" James exclaimed, looking daggers towards the Ravenclaw table.

"And, of course, it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he likes Lily," Remus said dryly.

"I didn't like him much, either," Harry said truthfully, defending James.

"See?" James gestured toward Harry, relieved to have someone on his side. "Harry doesn't like him either. Doesn't that say something about him?" He then turned towards Harry. "By the way, why don't you like him?"

"He kept flirting with Lily and it made me a bit uncomfortable," Harry admitted. "Particularly since he wasn't bothering to hide it."

"Yeah." James nodded. "In any case, it would be better not to go near Adams."

Remus rolled his eyes, but Harry privately agreed.

"So, how is Sirius?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

James, Remus, Peter, and Ron exchanged looks.

"My cousin really did him in this time," James said in a low voice. "They were in their usual verbal skirmishes and Sirius called her a disdainful harpy and well…you know how she doesn't like being called that."

Harry made a mental note that in the future never anger Natalie unless he wanted to get woefully humiliated.

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Their first class of the day was Charms instead of Transfiguration. Charms was, as usual, the class where you can be absolutely sure nobody will eavesdrop on your conversation. The class was taught by a younger Professor Flitwick, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together at their usual table at the far back of the classroom.

"So what happened?" Ron said to Harry as they tried to charm their frogs into singing an aria from _La Traviata_ with little success.

"This guy named Gabriel came to our table and started flirting with my mum!" Harry replied, feeling residual disgust from that dreadful encounter.

Ron was revolted. "Blimey! That must've been weird…imagine if my mum was here and some bloke started flirting with _her_…" He shook his head, clearly trying to disperse the image in his head.

"Definitely," Harry said fervently.

"It is natural for you to feel that way," Hermione said sympathetically. "After all, you expect that your mum should have feelings for only your dad. It therefore seems strange, when you find someone likes your mother too…"

"In any case, I don't like him," Harry said firmly. "He could've simply have not made it so _obvious_…sucking up to my mother, of all people, like that…"

"Mr. Westley," squeaked Professor Flitwick and Harry, Ron, and Hermione jumped, not seeing the tiny Professor approach. "Please let me see how you fare."

"What?" Ron looked bewildered. "Oh…yeah." He cleared his throat, and pointed his wand at his frog. The frog, in his gravely voice, began to sing an aria from _Carmen_. Ron looked mildly surprised and pleased that it somewhat had worked; last time he was asked to charm his frog by Flitwick, he poked the poor thing in the eye with his wand and was consequently assigned more homework.

"Ah, well, close enough," Flitwick said dismissively, shrugging. "Though a little more practice would be in order." He then moved away from the table.

"That was some nice spell work, Ron," Hermione said approvingly. Ron's ears went pink.

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After class, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were distracted by a commotion in the hall. Pushing and shoving some of the students, they were in the front and were able to see what the commotion was about: in a middle of onlookers, James and Gabriel were there, their wands drawn out, apparently dueling.

"Fight! Fight!" The crowd chanted, some random students yelling, "Go James!" or "Beat him, Gabriel!"

"Oh, dear," Hermione said shockingly. "We've got to do something!"

But Harry and Ron didn't seem keen to stop the dueling pair. They were both, of course, rooting for James, as they didn't care much for Gabriel.

Before James or Gabriel could throw more unsavory jinxes and curses, there came a stern, familiar voice that was enough to halt the duel.

"What is going on here?" It was Professor McGonagall, nostrils flaring, a sign that did not bode well. Everyone immediately became silent; James and Gabriel lowered their wands, glaring at each other.

"Twenty points from each of your houses!" said Professor McGonagall. "Such behavior! I never dreamed that you two would do such a thing! And detention for both of you, Thursday night, my office. No arguments," she added when they both opened their mouths. She then turned to the onlookers. "Clear out!" she barked, and the crowd dispersed.

Harry and Ron joined James, Remus, and Peter while Hermione went to her class, taking care to ignore James.

"What's up with her?" James asked Harry and Ron.

"Hermione is a stickler for the rules," Harry explained.

"Well, that explains why she gets along so well with Lily and Natalie," piped up Peter for the first time. Harry resisted the urge to strangle him.

"Anyways, we better get to class," Remus said and they set off to the next class of the day: Divination.

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Severus Snape, a.k.a. Snivellus, a.k.a. greasy, slimy git watched the group go to their next class, with Avery and Mulciber. They have been furtively spying on the three foreign exchange students, Peterson, Westley, and Granger, on the prowl for anything suspicious about them. Snape didn't quite swallow their tale of being exchange students from America-after all, since when Hogwarts accepted foreign exchange students?-and hanging out with Potter and his gang only managed to get them on his "enemies" list.

"I don't know, Snape," grumbled Avery. "They seem like normal kids to me."

"They are hiding something, I know it," hissed Snape. "We just have to find out what-"

"Instead of wasting our time following insignificant students, shouldn't we be focusing on what the Dark Lord asked us to do?" snapped Mulciber. "I think Avery is right, there's nothing wrong with them…"

Snape ignored Mulciber. He didn't care what the two of them said, he knew those three were hiding something. After all, Snape was a master of secrets, and he normally knew if one is withholding information of a vital source. Who cares what those two duncebuckets said? Snape was going to get to the bottom of this, with or without their help.

**A/N: Oooh, jealousy and suspense! Of course, I had to add that-I promised Voldemort and Death Eaters, didn't I? I tried to make the whole jealousy act a little more humorous, but I don't think I did it justice; not in my most creative mood, see. Now then, I should warn you, the next chapter is going to be a bit slow to update, since I'm working on the Epilogue to "Reminiscence" and I want it to do the ending justice. So please be patient! In any case, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review!!!!**


	9. Hogsmeade

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I was busy writing chapters for my new story, **_**A Year With Harry**_**. Please check it out if you're interested! Also, school slowed down my process considerably. Oh, and for anyone who asks, I love OLD MUSIC!!!! Early 30's to late 70's. Music from early 70's to late 80's is what I call nostalgia music or "bad old music". 90's and up is totally modern. You'll see why I added this later in the chapter. Anyways, on with the show! R&R!!**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is my non-de plume. I am the real owner of Harry Potter!! Nah, just kidding. Just wanted to write that.**

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Chapter Nine-Hogsmeade

_Mr. Prongs wants to know why Mr. Padfoot is trying to get Mr. Prongs's attention in Transfiguration, especially since Mr. Padfoot had so rudely interrupted Mr. Prongs's fantasies about the lovely Miss Evans?_

_Mr. Padfoot can only sigh dramatically and wonder whether Mr. Prongs ever stops thinking about Miss Evans. He would also like to point out that the mention of Mr. Prongs's fantasies about Miss Evans was entirely unnecessary and holds information that Mr. Padfoot had not wanted to know in the first place._

_Mr. Prongs takes offence at that, and voices his suspicions that Mr. Padfoot rarely gets through the day without thinking of Mr. Prongs's cousin, Miss Potter._

_Mr. Padfoot wittily replies that he does indeed think often of dear Miss Potter-thinking about strangling her, that is. _

_Mr. Prongs suddenly realizes that he and Mr. Padfoot has strayed far from the original subject and would like to add not to voice such things about Miss Potter, as Mr. Prongs, unlike Mr. Padfoot, is rather fond of her._

_Mr. Moony wants to know why these two idiots are passing notes back and forth, instead of paying attention to Professor McGonagall._

_Mr. Wormtail is also curious about what Messrs. Prongs and Padfoot are up to._

_Mr. Peterson suggests to watch Messrs. Prongs and Padfoot's interaction carefully, instead of asking them, for they'll surely be ignored. _

_Mr. Westley knows that this is horribly irrelevant to the subject of this nonverbal conversation, but he would like to say that he is extremely hungry and he can't wait until lunch. _

_Mr. Prongs indignantly declares that Mr. Padfoot wanted to tell Mr. Prongs something, but had never actually said what Mr. Padfoot wanted to tell him. Mr. Prongs then procedes to glare in Mr. Padfoot's direction._

_Mr. Padfoot declares that Mr. Prongs had distracted him and the thing Mr. Padfoot wanted to tell Mr. Prongs was whether he had secured a date for Hogsmeade this weekend and to express his dearest hope that Mr. Prongs wouldn't be thinking of asking out the haughty Miss Evans._

_Mr. Prongs says that hasn't acquired a date for Hogsmeade weekend yet and is sorry to let Mr. Padfoot's hope fall when Mr. Prongs says that he was indeed thinking about asking out Miss Evans. Mr. Prongs also frowns in disapproval of the word "haughty", and warns Mr. Padfoot not to describe his darling Lily flower in such an unflattering way again._

_Mr. Peterson wants to say that he has watched this whole interaction carefully and impartially, and has come to the solemn and inevitable conclusion that Mr. Prongs and Mr. Padfoot are moronic prats. He also suggest to quit passing notes and to at least endeavor in listening to Professor McGonagall, who, Mr. Peterson might add, is glaring in their direction right now._

_Mr. Moony couldn't agree with Mr. Peterson more and would like to add that his respect and admiration for Mr. Peterson has increased dramatically. _

_Mr. Wormtail agrees with Mr. Westley, and would like to add that for some inexplicable reason, he has developed a severe appetite for cheese._

There were no more notes passed after that.

-

The atmosphere at Hogwarts grew to be considerably lighter with the prospect of the first Hogsmeade weekend of term. Even with the deaths, disappearances and the threat of Lord Voldemort hanging over the castle, the students looked forward for that small pleasure of attending the wizarding village. The trip was to be on the first Saturday of October, which was just in a little less over a week.

The third years were undoubtedly the most excited of them all; this would be their first Hogsmeade experience, after all. Even the older students, especially the fifth and seventh years (whom all have had a rather strenuous time what with their O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s) were looking forward to the trip. Hand-in-hand with the expectation of a Hogsmeade trip, an interest in dating increased dramatically. Boys and girls everywhere seemed to have acquired dates for Hogsmeade. And thus resulted in a keen interest in who's-dating-whom, and Hogwarts's gossipmongers, (whom, incidentally, included a teenage Bertha Jorkins and Rita Skeeter) seemed even more overzealous than usual about gossip, if possible.

Our time-traveling trio, though having decided to go to Hogsmeade, remained respectively dateless. Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't really know anyone of the opposite sex very well, and it would be very weird if you went out with someone that you knew to be a future parent of your classmates. Not that Harry hadn't had offers-it seemed that hanging around with the Marauders and being friends with them automatically lumped him over with the "cool crowd".

"Jeez, Harry, you're popular in our time and in this time," Ron had said, though jokingly.

Hermione had also her fair share of offers, (to Ron's _inexplicable_ irritation) considering that she was friends with the three prettiest and most popular girls at Hogwarts, discreetly dubbed the "Hot Trio", respectively. And Ron was…well, just Ron.

Predictably, James Potter and Sirius Black, the two most popular, most dashing, and good-looking boys at Hogwarts, were up to their necks with girls vying to be their date for Hogsmeade. Harry and Ron had watched with awe at the number of girls who coming up to James and Sirius.

"I didn't know your dad and Sirius were ladies' men," Ron said to Harry almost accusingly.

"Apparently so," said Harry nonplussed, as he watched Sirius flirt shamelessly with a brunette while James winked at several girls, who giggled at the sight of him.

James, Harry saw, rejected every girl that came up to him. Correctly interpreting the reason why, Harry observed that the rejected girls then proceeded to glare murderously at a certain redhead, who was pointedly ignoring them.

Sirius, however, was an entirely different matter. He flirted outrageously with anyone who wore a skirt (including the Professors, though McGonagall was the reciprocate of most of his antics) even though he already had a date, a one Priscilla Vane (which, Harry though uneasily, might be related to Romilda Vane, the flirtatious fourth year that had tried-and failed-to slip Harry a love potion in sixth year).

Remus had already gotten a date, at James and Sirius's encouragement, a coy, bookish Ravenclaw of whom Harry had forgotten her name. Peter was dateless, no surprises there, (_Who would date that traitor? _Harry thought savagely) and had decided to stay in the castle.

A few days before the Hogsmeade trip, James made up his mind to ask Lily out.

"Since when do you ever think about asking out Lily?" Remus asked dryly. It was lunchtime and the Marauders and Harry and Ron were sitting on their usual seats at the back of the table.

"Yeah, usually you just walk up to her, feed her some pick-up line that Lily would certainly not appreciate, ask her out, she'll say no and slap you if you annoy her, and then go away." Sirius said all of this in one breath. "It's the same cycle all over again."

"And that's what I'm doing," said James, with the air of one explaining something very simple to a five-year old. "I'm breaking the cycle. Besides, that was then. This is now. 'Now' being that Lily is beginning to think that I'm not half-bad after all."

"And so what do you want us to do about it?" Peter asked.

"I need some advice," James answered, a tinge of helplessness in his voice. He turned to Remus. "Moony, what do you think?"

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed, pouting. "Why'd you skip me?"

"Because, Padfoot, while your area of expertise may be with girls, I will only come to you if I want to get into some girl's pants," James explained. "Besides, remember the last time I came to you for advice?"

"Hey, it was a good poem," Sirius said defensively. "It was what the Muggles call 'prose' or whatever the hell that is. Evans just didn't know the difference."

"Rubbish," James said, rolling his eyes. "Sirius helped me write a poem that stunk so bad that Lily actually put her response in prose. That was in fifth year. Now I know better."

"You wound me." Sirius gave an exaggerated sighed.

"Anyways, Moony?" James asked him.

Remus put his fork down, slowly chewing his food before saying, "Well, Prongs, all I have to say is this: be yourself."

James and Sirius looked at Remus, incredulous.

"Moony…you're not serious?" James asked him.

"That must be the worst advice you ever gave," Sirius remarked.

Remus gave a playful slap at Sirius's head. "You idiots," he said. "Now that James has matured, he can show the side of him that Lily had never seen before. A more sentimental side."

"Is there such a thing?" Sirius eyed James almost suspiciously, as though checking for any sign of sentimentality.

"Well, I don't think I can ever relax around her and not show off," said James nervously. "I dunno, every time I go near her, I feel very nervous, and so to try and hide it, I act like a real prat."

"You just have to learn to control your nervousness, or it will control you," Remus said wisely.

"Well, what say you, Harry?" James turned to Harry.

"What?" Harry was taken aback. "But-I-well, I'm not very good at advice and stuff like that."

"Really? How much experience with girls have you had?" Sirius asked curiously.

"Very little," Harry answered truthfully. "I've only kissed two girls."

This produced violent reactions; James and Sirius choked on whatever they were eating. James cleared his airway quick enough, but Sirius had a hard time and James had to stand up, put his arms around Sirius's stomach, and squeezed; a small chicken bone shot out from his mouth, hitting Peter hard on the head, who squealed and fell over in his chair. Everyone laughed at that, especially Harry and Ron. Remus shook his head, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

"So in all of six years, you've just kissed _two _separate girls?" Sirius repeated, as though he hadn't almost choked to death. J

"Yeah," said Harry. "The first was my first crush, but she was too weepy so it didn't work out. The second was girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend from your former school?" asked James, curious.

"Well, I used to, but I broke up with her," Harry admitted.

"Why?" Sirius asked. "Did you get bored with her?"

"Oh, no," Harry said quickly. "No, I really like her, it's just…" He trailed off, unsure of how he could explain it to his father and godfather. In the end, he decided to tell the truth-after all, no one could possibly guess…

"I broke up with her because I didn't want her to get hurt," Harry answered, and seeing the confused faces, he proceeded to explain, "You see, I'm being hunted down by Voldemort." The boys adopted horrified looks here.

"You are?" James asked, looking appalled.

"Ever since I was one," Harry said gloomily. "I've decided to hunt down Voldemort, because I would never get any peace until I do. It was hard, letting Ginny go, but I had to."

"That was remarkably selfless of you," Remus remarked, recovering. "That's something James would do."

"I guess you're right," said James, suddenly gloomy. "If I were in the same situation, I would let Lily go as well."

"Even after all the trouble you went to get her?" Harry asked, shocked at this information.

"Well, that's just it, isn't it?" James said gloomily. "I like her enough that I care more about her safety than my happiness."

"Well, yeah, that's how I feel about Ginny, too," said Harry.

"You know, mate, you're too bloody noble for your own good," Ron spoke for the first time, having finished eating. "I understand what you did, but still…"

"Ginny is Ron's sister," Harry explained to the Marauders. "So of course he would feel like that."

"I wish I had a sister to protect," Sirius said wistfully. "My cousins are all snotty brats, except for Dromeda, and it's not the same."

"Well, I have Natalie, so I can't complain," said James. "I remember when we were children; she had caused quite a stir among the boys."

"Oh, really?" Sirius's voice suddenly became cool and he began poking his chicken as though it had done him a great personal wrong. Remus saw this, and inwardly smiled.

"Anyways, so when are you going to ask Evans?" Sirius asked quickly, and Harry could sense his great urgency to change the subject.

"After lunch," James replied, suddenly looking nervous again. He even ran a hand through his messy black hair, something that Harry had not seen him do until now.

"Which is right now," Remus said, checking his watch, and James groaned.

Harry felt rather sorry for his dad about his dilemma in asking out Lily. Harry wanted to say something to him, reassure him, but could not think of anything to say, and so fell silent.

James then dragged his friends to follow Lily and her friends out of the Great Hall.

"Okay then, how do I look?" James asked them nervously.

"Fine," said Remus.

"Terrible," said Sirius.

"Okay," said Harry.

"Nice," said Ron.

Peter merely shrugged.

James sighed at their lack of support, seemingly deciding that he was entirely alone on this.

"So are you ready?" Sirius asked him.

"No," said James, and he started to walk toward Lily with a false air of confidence-only to stop, for Gabriel Adams was there, talking to _his _Lily. And she was _smiling_.

"What's up?" Sirius asked, confused.

James said nothing-he probably couldn't-so he gestured with his head at Lily and Gabriel. And she was _smiling_.

"Oh," Sirius breathed, finally realizing. "Well, tough luck there, mate."

"She might not say yes," suggested Remus, always the wise one. "Not that he's asking her out to Hogsmeade or anything," he added hastily, catching the look on James's face.

"He probably is, though," said Ron, tactless as usual.

James groaned. Sirius and Remus glared at Ron, who looked bewildered.

"What'd I say?" Ron asked, confused.

"Never mind," Sirius said dismissively. "In any case, I don't think Evans would be as silly as to say yes to _Adams_, of all people-"

Suddenly, they heard Gabriel exclaim happily. "Great! See you at the Great Hall on Hogsmeade day!" and departed, with a bounce to his step.

Everyone was careful not to look at James's face.

-

"Lily," Natalie said to her, half-angry, half-disbelieving. "Gabriel Adams? What were you possibly thinking, if indeed you were thinking at all?"

Lily said nothing, trying to rearrange her scrambled thoughts. Personally, she didn't know why she had agreed with a date with Gabriel Adams in the first place. In all actuality, she didn't really like Gabriel. Lily thought him too stuck-up, too flirtatious, too rule abiding, too…everything. However, she was only put up with him out of courtesy. And so when Gabriel came up to her, Lily pinned on her "I'm-Interested-In-Anything-You-Say" face and listened to Gabriel. She found herself wishing to be somewhere else other than where she was, with someone else at her side, talking and laughing along with her…

"So, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

The question was so out of the blue and so highly irrelevant to the topic that Lily, taken aback, was speechless for a few seconds. When the power of speech finally came to her, however, she had caught sight of James, wearing what looked liked a permanent scowl on his face. And then, for some _unfathomable _reason, she had blurted out "yes". She hardly heard what Gabriel had said, and it was only now that it dawned on her what she had said. Now Lily was paying the price-by using up her ample brainpower for the simple action of making up an excuse to excuse what she had just said.

"I don't know why I did that," said Lily, her mind scrambling for excuses. "A temporary lapse of sanity?" _Please, please make them believe that. _

However, fate was a cold-hearted harlot. Natalie, Alice, and Hermione simultaneously snorted, clearly not buying it.

"I think I know," Hermione said shrewdly, and they all looked at her. "A certain James Potter, perhaps."

"Of course, Hermione!" Natalie exclaimed. She turned to Lily, her eyes shining with triumph, as though she had just solved a particularly nasty math equation. "Of course…James was near us, was he? So jealousy has reared his head on you, has it?"

"You really should be careful," Alice advised. "Things go horribly wrong when you try to make someone jealous."

"Quite right," Natalie agreed briskly. "If you let it go too far, James will think that you're taken and will probably do the noble thing and give up on you for the sake of your happiness and blah blah blah, and all that rubbish. And Gabriel will be led on to think you like him, which isn't the case at all, and you would have to break his heart by telling him the awful truth, he gets vindictive, and tries to get revenge on you by trying to kill James using Muggle and/or magical means-"

"Whoa, whoa, stop," Lily interrupted her firmly. "First of all, this isn't a bloody Spanish soap opera-"

"-I beg to differ," Natalie muttered.

"-Second of all, it disturbs me for you to think up these stupid, nonsensical theories instead of simply realizing that maybe the reason that I agreed to go out with Gabriel was because I needed a date for Hogsmeade!"

There was a pause. And then-

"Lily darling, you savage your pride too much by making up these ridiculous excuses," Natalie said dryly.

"Let's face it, Lily-you like James Potter," said Alice, uncharacteristically blunt.

"It's true," Lily insisted, but predictably, no one believed her.

"You're really a bad liar," Natalie commented mildly, shaking her head.

-

"ALL BY MYSEEEEEEEEEELFFFFFF…DON'T WANNA BE ALL BY MYSELF ANYMORRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Harry cringed, trying vainly to block the _dulcet _tones of Sirius Black by burying his head under his pillow. If he had any clue, anything so as to warn him of this, he would have invariably taken a nap during the day. They say ignorance is bliss. Right now, Harry wanted to murder the person who came up with that line.

He along with Ron and the Marauders had gone to Gryffindor Tower for bed. Before going to bed, however, James and Remus had taken Harry and Ron aside and explained, in whispers, that the night before Hogsmeade weekend he would gorge himself on candies and sweets.

"Sirius can't hold down his sugar," James explained in somber tones. "So when he gets hyper, he really gets hyper. We have to put up with his singing the entire night."

"Really?" Ron asked in a higher pitched voice that was wholly unlike his speaking voice.

"Nah, we just use those Muggle contractions to block them," James laughed. "Or magic. Whichever we think of first."

"They are extremely important," Remus said seriously. "You've never heard Sirius sing, have you?"

"No," said Harry and Ron.

"Good," Remus replied. "You're one of the lucky ones."

Unfortunately, they had hit on a snag. Two, actually. Sirius, already on his sugar high, had hidden the cotton balls and earplugs somewhere and had magically repel _Silencio _spells.

"So eeeeeverrrryyyyyyyboody can listen to my beauuuuutiful voice!" Sirius had wailed, and thus proceeded to sing. The songs he had chosen were, surprisingly, old Muggle songs from all the way to early 30's.

"He listened to old Muggle music so as to anger his parents," Remus yelled to Harry and Ron over Sirius's horrible singing. "And now…well…" Remus gestured over to Sirius, who was using his toothbrush as a make-believe microphone.

And so all through the night, Sirius sang myriads of different old Muggle songs, one for each hour. It was, at first, very funny, but then it quickly became tiring. If someone had monitored Sirius's singing, the schedule went as follows:

8:00 p.m.- "Say Has Anybody Seen My Sweet Gypsy Rose?" (Sirius had been looking for his favorite Quidditch socks for no reason whatsoever, and his search thus triggered him singing this song)

9:00 p.m.- "Anything Goes" written by Cole Porter (Sirius had been talking about his favorite song writers to nobody for no good reason when he suddenly remembered that he liked Cole Porter, which made him sing this song)

10:00 p.m.- "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" (Ron, having finally lost his patience, threw a pillow at Sirius, who then began to sing this song, imagining the pillow as a raindrop)

11:00 p.m.- "I'm Getting Married In the Morning" from _My Fair Lady_ (Sirius had apparently forgotten that he was not getting married at all, was just in fact going on a date in the morning and he didn't realize this until the second verse, changing it to a more bawdy title of "I'm Getting Laid In the Morning")

12:00 p.m.- "I Don't Know How To Love Him" from _Jesus Christ Superstar_ (Sirius beginning to become somewhat sentimental and had temporarily forgotten that he was a guy-he was singing "him" for more the half the song before changing to "her" and making up verses about the hormonal feelings he felt for his "love")

1:00 a.m.- "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" from _Evita _(Sirius had got the idea of being an opera singer stuck in his head and decided to sing this song, no matter how many times Remus yelled that this song was not required to sing in opera tones)

2:00 a.m.- "L.O.V.E." (This warrants no explanation-Sirius simply sang this for absolutely no reason whatsoever)

3:00 a.m.- "Lady" (Someone, finally fed up with Sirius's incessant singing, went to get Professor McGonagall to stop him. However, when McGonagall started to reprimand him, Sirius cried out, "Minnie! Leave the old codger and elope with me, my darling!" and then started to sing this song. McGonagall gave up and said to them wearily that he would stop singing sooner or later)

4:00 a.m.- "Hey There" (Apparently, Sirius had remembered James's obsession over Lily Evans, and decided to sing this song to make James stop his pursuit of Lily. Naturally, it didn't work)

5:00 a.m.- "Begin the Beguine" (Same explanation as "L.O.V.E.")

And now, Sirius was sitting on the floor in the middle of the common room, swaying drunkenly side-by-side, singing "All By Myself". Harry knew that he, Ron, and the rest of the Marauders excluding Sirius were literally praying for Merlin and God to make Sirius stop singing.

"WHEN I WAS YOUUUUUNG…I NEVER NEEDED ANYONEEEEEEEE…MAKING LOVE WAS JUST FOR FUUUUUUUUNNNNNN…"

Suddenly, without warning, Sirius fell to his side, snoring lightly. There were many relieved sighs from the neighboring beds, even a "Finally!" Harry had never been so pleased for a good night's sleep such as this night.

-

When Harry woke up, it was very bright outside-it blinded his eyes. Groaning, he got out of bed, rubbing his tired eyes. It had been a long, tiresome night, but at least, Harry thought, he didn't have nightmares. He got dressed and pulled back the maroon hangings and was greeted by the sight of James, Remus, and Peter confronting Sirius, apparently having an argument.

"I keep telling you, it's nothing!" Sirius exclaimed, exasperated, putting on his robes. Harry could not help noticing that he was wincing with every movement he made.

"Nothing?" James gave a skeptical snort. "You overdosed on the candy you ate last night and you didn't stop singing until about 5:30 or 6:00 in the morning!"

"James is right, Sirius," Remus said calmly, reasonably. "Normally, you would start to lose steam at about 2:00 or 3:00."

"Merlin, you just _have_ to keep track of everything I do, don't you?" Sirius snapped, and, already dressed, he went down to the common room. James, Remus, Peter looked at each other.

"Something's up." James was the first to say something.

"I agree," Remus said promptly.

"What's going on?" Harry asked them, and they all jumped, not having noticed Harry.

"Well, if you heard the whole thing, you have the gist of it," James said grimly.

Suddenly, they heard a groan and a few moments later Ron appeared, looking groggy.

"Did I miss something?" Ron asked groggily.

"Nothing," James, Remus, Peter, and Harry said simultaneously.

-

The Marauders (excluding Peter) and Harry and Ron went down to the entrance hall. There were lots of students gathered there. Filch was standing conspicuously inside the front doors checking off names against a very long list, glaring suspiciously at each student, making sure that no one was sneaking off to where they shouldn't. Harry caught a glimpse of Lily, Natalie, Alice, and Hermione standing a little way from them. James looked at Lily, who met his gaze tentatively. But then Gabriel arrived; Lily broke his gaze and James turned away quickly. Natalie glared freely at Sirius, who mockingly winked at her. Hermione and Alice watched this interaction with disapproving looks on their faces.

"Hey, Penelope!" Sirius waved at a black-haired, well-endowed girl and met up with her.

"It's Priscilla," the girl told him dreamily. "But you can call me anything you want."

Natalie's eyes narrowed at Priscilla so that her eyes were just mere slits. Only Harry noticed this, however.

"Well, see you Prongs!" Sirius yelled, Priscilla dragging him off. Remus then spotted his date, said good-bye to James, and left.

"Well, mates, it's just us," James said with forced cheerfulness at Harry and Ron. "C'mon, let's go."

They went with the others down the road to Hogsmeade. It was a nice, breezy day, patches of sunlight going through the gap of the clouds and disappearing unevenly. Pretty soon, Harry, Ron, and James arrived at Hogsmeade. It was pretty much the same as it was in Harry and Ron's time, only everything was so much newer. They and most of the students went into the Three Broomsticks, the same as always, although Madame Rosmerta looked considerably younger. Sirius and Penelope-I mean, Priscilla-were at a table, having went ahead of Harry, Ron, and James. They were, er…very busy.

"Just like Padfoot," James muttered, looking at the couple. "To freak everyone out with PDA."

They all sat down on a table considerably away from Sirius and Polly-sorry, Priscilla. They then ordered three bottles of butterbeer and talked randomly of things. Although they were all laughing and seemingly having a good time, Harry couldn't help noticing that James seemed rather moody and depressed. Every so often, he'd glance shiftily at the table where Lily and Gabriel were, looking like the perfect couple. Natalie, who was beside them, was talking animatedly to a guy (James's eyes narrowed protectively at this) and Alice was sitting shyly at another nearby table, talking shyly with an equally shy Frank Longbottom. Hermione was actually reading, taking occasional sips from her butterbeer.

Harry then began to think about the various love-triangles at Hogwarts. It was like a big soap opera, so obvious that even Harry, who acknowledged that he wasn't a big genius where women and relationships were concerned, had noticed. And instead of everyone confessing their feelings for each other, they stifle them. It was not only Lily and James who did this, but also Natalie and Sirius. It was rather tiresome. Harry had suddenly a whole new appreciation to poor Remus, who had to put up with all this denial.

All in all though, Harry thought, sipping his butterbeer, this rendezvous to the past has been quite fun. He finally had gotten to know his parents and their friends, and even discovered that Natalie was his father's cousin (although Harry was sad he hadn't met her in his time). Yep, everything was absolutely wonderful…

Suddenly, there was a very loud, shrill scream.

…Until someone screamed.

Harry put down his bottle of butterbeer, sighing. It was time to play the hero once again…

* * *

**A/N: I'm so sorry about the delay. Extremely busy with school and other stories. Hope you liked this chapter! Please review!!**


	10. Hogsmeade Under Attack!

**A/N: ****Here's the next chapter! I apologize for the lateness; if you haven't read my profile yet, my idiot brother broke the computer (temporarily losing my files) and we had to buy a new one. I got my files back, though (yay!) so I finished this chapter as soon as I could.**** Hope you like it! I'm not really sure I did myself justice on the action scenes, though. I'm not really good at writing action; my forte is in the language, the use of ****the ****words. R&R!!**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I own a stuffed pig****, Natalie, and my novel.**** See what I'm getting at here?**

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Chapter Ten-Hogsmeade Under Attack!

By the time Harry, James, Ron, and the others went outside, people were already screaming and bright flashes of light seemed to be everywhere. Harry felt like they were a tiny speck in a sea full of students running for their lives as tall, hooded figures wearing masks came, achieving the effect of looking frightening and intimidating.

"Go to Dumbledore," Harry told James and Ron, calm and in control. "Tell him there are Death Eaters in Hogsmeade-"

"No way," James said firmly. "I'm fighting too."

"Don't be so bloody noble," Harry insisted, conveniently forgetting the number of times he was being the exact same way. They glared at each other, for a second looking like mirror images of each other, neither of them having any intention of backing down.

"Fine," Harry said, gritting his teeth, giving in mostly because they could not afford to waste any more time. "Ron, you go."

"What?" Ron was incredulous. "Mate, I've been fighting alongside with you for six years; what makes you think this time is any different?"

Harry was feeling angry, frustrated. He didn't want to put his friends (especially his parents and Sirius) in danger, but how could he do so when they were just so absurdly tenacious about it? Harry then turned to Lily, Natalie, Hermione, and Sirius, and then was struck with a thought that made a chill run down his spine.

"Where's Peter?"

"He stayed at Hogwarts, remember?" Hermione answered, and then her brown eyes widen at the realization. She, Harry, and Ron exchanged swift, significant looks. It seemed that Peter had turned coat sooner than they had thought…

"Right," Harry said shortly. "Well, one of us still has to get to Dumbledore."

"What will you do?" Lily demanded, and Harry fancied there was a kind of instinctive concern for him.

"Go and fight," Harry replied.

"Well, we're coming too," Lily said decisively, jutting out her chin, and Natalie nodded to reinforce her words.

"No, Lily." It wasn't Harry who spoke, but James, wearing a mulish expression on his face.

"And why not?" Lily shot at him. "I want to help, I want to fight-"

"Well, you won't," James interrupted. "The only way you'll fight is under my dead body."

"No." Lily and James then proceeded to glare at each other. If it wasn't for the fact that Death Eaters were roaming around Hogsmeade destroying everything in its path, Harry would've noticed that this was the first time he had seen James glare at Lily. Suddenly, a jet of bright red light destroyed the glass display windows nearest them, causing all of them to jump and back away quickly.

"Look," Harry told his parents. "This is no time to stand around arguing-James, I hate to say it, but it's no use fighting her. Lily, you can come." Lily looked grimly triumphant at this.

"I'll go with Lily as well," said Natalie fiercely.

"No!" shouted James and Sirius simultaneously. James turned to look at Sirius, raising his eyebrows quizzically. Sirius looked sheepish, and avoided James's silent question.

Harry, again, took matters into his own hands. "All right then," he said reluctantly. "Alice?"

Alice, to the surprise of many, didn't object. "I'll go," she said gloomily. "I'm not much of a fighter anyways."

She had sounded so uncannily like Neville that Harry was sorely tempted to tell her that she was brave and had a big heart like her son Neville, but he resisted, and he and the others watched her disappear through the crowd, her dirty-blonde hair swishing behind her.

"Dear Alice," Lily murmured.

"Let's go," Harry said calmly.

Without another word, they went out of the safety of their hiding place to fight the Death Eaters. It was a devastating sight. More than half of the village's shops were on fire or damaged in some way shape or form. The greedy bright flames ate up everything in their path, and numerous columns of pitch black smoke were spiraling up to the tinged black sky, which had been the loveliest baby blue. Screams and yells filled almost every molecule of the air.

Many people (particularly the media…surprise, surprise) who like to tell this "legendary" story, (wishing to over exaggerate and idealize the entire thing out of proportion) say that the battle between Harry and the others and the Death Eaters started with a simple Stunning Spell, aimed at a nearby Death Eater, courtesy of Harry himself. However, few people know that the battle actually started with an insult, directed at a not-so-smart Death Eater who was looking around, looking rather lost.

"Oi, knuckle-head! We're right here, you idiot!"

This was, of course, yelled by Sirius, who couldn't stay serious for so long (no pun intended). What Sirius didn't realize was that his quick belittlement of the Death Eater's intelligence proved to be amazingly and humorously accurate-for the Death Eater was the father of Crabbe Sr., who had the brain approximately the size of the peanut, and the intelligence of a donkey. But sadly, he wasn't deaf, and could distinguish a direct insult at that. He blinked, looked around, saw Sirius, and then proceeded to finally curse Sirius.

The battle preceding that was a flurry of activity and confusion. Harry had Stunned two, and was now locked into a battle with two Death Eaters, dueling superbly and with the experience of a seasoned Auror. Of course, we all know that our bespectacled hero has had more experience than he would care for. Besides, the past Death Eaters didn't seem to be any smarter than the future ones.

The others didn't really compare to Harry, but they were doing remarkably well for people who hadn't had the same kind of experience Harry has.

James was dueling with an unknown Death Eater with poor coordination, but unmistakable knowledge of the Dark Arts. The Death Eater shot a Stunning Spell at James, but he dodged it, and the spell it one of the glass display cases; panes of glass rained down on them and James ducked away, gaining a split second advantage. He quickly immobilized the Death Eater with a quick, "_Petrificus Totalis!_" but had no time to savor his triumph before another Death Eater engaged him in battle again.

Remus and Peter were dueling a Death Eater together. It wasn't as if the Death Eater was a magnificent dueler. In fact, he was the father of Goyle Sr. (which ought to tell you plenty). It was simply that Remus, who was a wonderful duelist, (A/N: He'd have to be to be able teach DADA so well) had to help the traitorous-I mean, the untalented Peter Pettigrew. Every so often Remus would save Peter from a particularly nasty spell/curse/jinx.

Sirius, as we left him, was left with the _arduous_ (please note the sarcasm) task of dueling with the father of Crabbe Sr. He quickly battled through the Death Eaters as though flipping the pages of a book, ironically enjoying himself, even as he furiously flung spells at the Death Eaters. Harry watched his godfather out the corner of his eye, half-impressed at Sirius's skills, but also worried about his safety…after all, he _had_ died on Harry in his fifth year…Harry quickly shooed away that thought and focused at the battle at hand.

Natalie and Lily had paired up to ward off the Death Eaters, although dueling wasn't exactly their forte. Oftentimes there were close shaves, in which hexes and jinxes would whiz dangerously close to them. Natalie was up against a particularly difficult Death Eater, dodging his hexes while he laughed chillingly, disturbingly enjoying themselves.

"_Crucio_…_Crucio_…come and fight, you pretty-" The Death Eater taunted.

"_Inpedimenta_!" shouted Sirius, pointed his wand at him. His jinx hit the Death Eater straight at the chest, and the Death Eater was thrown back, He hit a glass display case and lied there among the broken shards of glass, and he did not get up.

After about fifteen minutes of pandemonium, the Death Eaters, without warning, stopped attacking and Disapparated from the tattered village. But if the Marauders and co. and our time-travelling trio thought that the battle was over, their hopes were quickly dashed. For in the Death Eater's place there appeared a tall figure in black robes. This was, of course, Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who, Moldyshorts, Voldykins, Moldywart, Tom Marvolo Riddle (as he particularly hates to be called) and many other innumerable names besides. As we all know from the Goblet of Fire, he has a pale, snake-like face and nostrils, with gleaming, sinister burgundy eyes and long, thin phalanges. Everyone stood there, stunned and paralyzed with fear and disgust. But mostly disgust.

Harry clenched his wand so hard his knuckles almost turned white. The Voldemort in this time wasn't at all unlike the Voldemort in Harry's time, although Harry could practically feel an aura of vitality, cockiness, overconfidence and arrogance that the future one lacked.

_Of course_, Harry thought grimly, _Tom would be overconfident, as he is in the prime of his __power. Well, I'd just have to take his ego down to size…_

Voldemort was lucky, though, that Harry was in the past and was loath to change it, because then he would have attempted to kill Voldemort on the spot. No, Harry wanted simply to buy time until Dumbledore got here, and then Voldemort would be forced to retreat, no matter how large the size of his head was.

"You are very brave, fighting against my Death Eaters," Voldemort said in his high, cold voice that made everyone except Harry hide an involuntary shiver. "Or extremely stupid, for that matter."

"You would know, Tom," Harry said coldly. "Seeing as you were foolish to come here."

Voldemort's red eyes glowed fiercely in anger and incredulity at the sound of his given name. Everyone stared in surprise and in awe at the messy-haired boy in front of them, his body shaking not with fear, but with anger. Voldemort, however, quickly composed himself and gave a laugh that was just as high and cold as his voice.

"Impertinent child," he hissed, "So you know my name, do you?"

"I know many things about you, Riddle," Harry said quietly. "Things that you would never dream that I would know. Shall I shout them out for the whole street to hear?"

Voldemort, trembling with fury at Harry's audacity, fired a Killing Curse at Harry, but he dodged it easily, and sent a curse right back at Voldemort, who deflected it with a lazy flick of his wand.

"You dare to fight me back?" Voldemort laughed again, though not as amused as before. "As you wish. Prepare to die, boy!"

And so began the duel. Everyone stood transfixed at the sight of the two of them, a scrawny boy of seventeen and the greatest Dark wizard of the century dueling, and they were shocked and awed to see that Harry was more than adequately matched for Voldemort. He seemed, extraordinarily, to second guess Voldemort's attacks, and dodged them quite easily while sending his own curses at him, which seemed to at least discompose Voldemort a little.

The duel went on, until it was interrupted by a most unexpected person.

"Hello, Tom," said a silky, dangerous voice. "So nice to come to Hogsmeade, where I knew I would find you and kill you."

**(A/N: Normally, I would end it here, but it would be really unfair of me to do that when you all were so patiently waiting for this chapter. So I will not be sadistic for once and let you read on and see what the mysterious person is**

Harry and Voldemort stopped their frenzied dueling to stare in the direction of the voice, along with everyone in the surrounding area who had made a circle around them. The crowd cleared, and Harry saw who it was. It was a strange woman he had never met nor seen before, pointing a wand directly at Voldemort. She had dark, burgundy hair, a color reminiscent of red wine, with equally dark emerald eyes and ivory skin. She might have been beautiful if it weren't for the hatred in her emerald orbs, darkening to a deep forest green and the fierce, twisted, slightly evil expression on her face.

Harry looked around at the others and was surprised by their reactions. Instead of surprise and fear as he expected, fury was palpitating in waves from the group. James had turned red with fury and had balled his fists. Sirius looked as though he wanted to hex the woman to bits. Even Lily showed signs of unleashing her temper. The only one who was the least bit scared was Natalie, who had, for some reason, turned a ghastly shade of pale.

Harry turned back to the woman. She had eyes for no one but Voldemort, who seemed to recognize her and was looking at the woman with an amused expression on his face.

"Ah, Maira," Voldemort said nonchalantly, as though he wasn't at all surprised by Maira's appearance. "As a matter of fact, I've forgotten about you. You didn't pose too big of a threat to make me worry for my life."

This seemed to anger the woman–Maira–and her emerald eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. "You don't know what I am capable of now, Tom," she hissed. "I am not the naïve little girl you once knew. I am capable of everything and anything."

"So I don't doubt," Voldemort said coolly. "But you are no match for me, Maira, I who have gone along the path of immortality further than anybody. You know that, and yet you still insist on killing me. You really know how to harbor grudges, do you?"

At this, Maira smiled–no, more like bared her teeth to Voldemort. "I have perfect reason to bear a grudge against you, Tom. After what you did to me…"

Voldemort laughed again. "You still remember that? Maira, you disappoint me…Did I really misjudge you? That was years ago, when we were still in school."

"Regardless," Maira said in a quiet, but nevertheless unnerving voice. "I haven't forgotten, Tom..."

Voldemort still looked amused. Harry looked at Maira and Voldemort, confused. This Maira seemed to know Voldemort very well from when he was at school, had probably have been classmates. But if that was so, then why was she pointing a wand at him with murder in her eyes? She couldn't possibly be on their side; like Voldemort, she possessed a slightly evil aura about her, but she wasn't with Voldemort either. Then, which side is she? Who is exactly is she?

But before Harry could draw a conclusion about this mysterious woman, he heard a soft, familiar voice.

"Ah, the two most talented students of the Class of '45. I should have known you two would meet again."

The crowd dispersed at once to reveal Dumbledore, looking his serene self, but Harry knew better; his grip on the wand was tight. Alice, whom Harry had noticed behind Dumbledore, managed to slip in the crowd, for the most part, unnoticed. Harry caught her eye and gave her a look of gratitude, in which Alice responded with a small smile.

Voldemort and Maira gaped at Dumbledore, fury evident in their eyes, along with chagrin. It was obviously clear that no matter how much they hated Dumbledore, they wouldn't dare mess with him. Even Maira seemed wary of him.

"Well, this certainly brings back many fond memories," said Dumbledore, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "But as much as I had the pleasure of meeting the two of you again, I suggest that you both leave before"-and this was said without the least bit of a threat-"I'm forced to make you."

Silence greeted Dumbledore's small speech. Both of Voldemort and Maira's faces were quite impassive, though Harry knew that Voldemort was steaming inside. But of Maira he wasn't as sure. She hid her thoughts and feelings quite well, and was the first to speak, though not to Dumbledore, but to Voldemort.

"You haven't seen the last of me, Tom." Even her voice was cool and nonchalant. "Nor you, girl."

This was directed at Natalie, who was looking sick. Harry saw James and Sirius slide fractionally in front of her. A flicker of amusement briefly passed by Maira's features at what she thought was a foolish attempt at protecting Natalie, but then her face smoothed over and she Disapparated, her burgundy hair whipping behind her.

Dumbledore, looking the tiniest satisfied, turned to Voldemort, his eyebrows raised in expectation.

For several long moments Voldemort stared at Dumbledore. Harry waited with bated breath, hoping that Voldemort wouldn't be so foolish as to challenge Dumbledore, no matter how arrogant he clearly was.

Voldemort didn't even say anything, just shot Dumbledore a particularly murderous glare and, thankfully, Disapparated. Immediately after Voldemort was gone, there was an outbreak of muttering among the crowd, and some even fainted.

Dumbledore, as always, swiftly took control. "Students will leave Hogsmeade village and back to Hogwarts immediately. Anyone who is injured will be treated by Madame Pomfrey promptly."

The students did not waste any time in obeying Dumbledore and trekked up to the castle. Upon arriving, Harry along with the others were herded into the hospital wing, and Madame Pomfrey kept them at bay, deaf to their protests that they were alright. She can be excused for thinking otherwise, as they were all sported nasty cuts and bruises–Natalie in particular has a deep gash on her right cheek–and she had just been informed that Harry had battled Voldemort single-handedly. This made Madame Pomfrey firm in her decision and the others ungraciously accepted defeat.

Now that the trouble was over, Harry felt exhaustion creep into his body as his heart rate slowed and the adrenaline in his veins stopped pumping. He and the others then slept, all the while having disturbed dreams about flashes of green light, a burgundy-haired woman, and a familiar high-cold laugh…

* * *

**A/N: ****Finally, this chapter is finished! Now, before I urge you all to review, I have some very good news to tell you. I have written out the entire next chapter (which I know you will absolutely LOVE) on paper so all I have to do is type it. Seeing as I am a very fast typer, I do believe I can finish the next chapter in two or three days. Now, things might crop up (as it did a few weeks ago…three school projects, two due on the same day! It's a conspiracy, people!) and so the chapter might get delayed. Also, I have my other fan fiction to work on. But I will try to submit the next chapter as soon as I possibly can. Now then, on to the matter of reviewing (hint, hint)…**


	11. Revelations

**A/N: HAH! Bet you didn't know I would update so soon, huh? To tell you the truth, neither did I! But since you guys are just so wonderful with your fantastic and encouraging reviews, I typed the whole thing as fast as my fingers could go!**** I think you all will really like this chapter (if you don't know what I mean, look at the title more carefully). I won't say anymore for fear of revealing too much. You should be able to guess accurately, though.**** So, anyways, R&R!!**

**Disclaimer: J.K. ****Rowling owns Harry Potter. ****I only own Natalie and Maira. **

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Chapter Eleven-Revelations

The security of the Hogwarts seemed to tighten overnight, due to the "Hogsmeade Incident" as the students began to call it. Everyone who hadn't been at Hogsmeade quickly found out about it (there is simply no secrets at Hogwarts) and tension infiltrated every single corner of the castle. Because of the incident, Voldemort's threat to the wizarding world was now suddenly very real. Every sudden burst of laughter sounded shrill and unnatural and every gem of happiness was deemed inappropriate.

Harry once again found himself an instant celebrity, much to his displeasure. It was enough to make him regret having dueled Voldemort in front of plain eye-witnesses who had wasted no time in reported to their friends what had happened. Harry Peterson, the strange American exchange student, battling a rising Dark Lord? It was nothing short of incredible and awe-inspiring. Instead of the Boy-Who-Lived, as he was called in his time, he was now the Boy-Who-Dueled-You-Know-Who-And-Lived. Harry caught many surreptitious glances in his direction and, much to his great annoyance, a bunch of silly, giggling girls following him around like the plague, impressed by his duel with Lord Voldemort.

The Marauders and Lily, Natalie, and Alice, however, were a bit of a different story. Although all of them were impressed by Harry's duel with Voldemort, it seemed to Harry that they were all rather suspicious and curious of him now. Harry Peterson, a boy whom they all considered their friend and a normal boy, was all of a sudden a Dark-Lord kick-arse. In short, Harry became sort of an enigma to them, an enigma they weren't aware of until now. And not only Harry was cast into suspicion. Ron and Hermione, his best friends, also seemed to be hiding something, and the fact that they didn't seem at all surprised at Harry's impressive dueling abilities put them even more on the dark shade of suspicion.

They weren't the only ones who were suspicious. Our time-travelling trio couldn't help but remember the other's intense reactions to the appearance of the villainess, Maira. They were remaining tenaciously tight-lipped over the subject. Harry had dared to ask about her and hadn't gotten a response. James, Sirius, Lily, Remus, and Alice looked angry, though, whereas Natalie turned pale again and did not speak. But Harry's infamous curiosity did not waver in the slightest. Who was exactly Maira?

And in the midst of all their problems, there was still the question of discovery. In that topic Hermione was a bundle of nerves. She continually voiced her views to Harry and Ron, and try as they might, they couldn't dismiss it as easily as they had a few weeks ago. All they could do was to stick to their story and guard their words carefully. Although Harry had no intention of changing the past or of revealing the future, he was determined not to harp on it. He'll confront their suspicions when he had to.

_They can't possibly piece it together, _Harry thought reassuringly to himself, _It's impossible…we've been careful not to let anything that would compromise us slip out. Soon Dumbledore would find a way to get us back to the future, leave this time and the past would remain untouched._

How was he sadly mistaken.

* * *

Remus wanted to hit himself over and over senseless until he was unconscious, but since he couldn't do that, he did it mentally instead. He couldn't fathom how James and Sirius had persuaded him to do this, but then again, those two lovable imbeciles always managed to do things that were utterly absurd. Remus had to marvel at the influence James and Sirius had over him. 

"It's harmless," Sirius had assured him earlier in the boys' dormitory. "We will just take a tiny, little, miniscule peek at Harry's trunk to see who he _really _is."

"Surely you don't buy that 'exchange student' rubbish?" prompted James, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Remus had answered slowly. "I agree there is something up with Harry, but we're violating his personal space! Maybe there's another explanation-"

"And where else would we look for explanations other than in his trunk?" Peter had asked.

"Oh, no, Wormtail, not you two!" Remus had cried exasperatedly.

"Come on, Moony," Sirius consoled. "It'll be very quick. I promise that if we don't find anything, we'll leave right away."

Before Remus could reply, the door to the dormitory opened and the boys jumped guiltily. It wasn't Harry, however, but Lily, Natalie, and Alice, who froze upon entering the dormitory.

James was the first one to recovery. "Why, Waterlily," he said cockily. "I had no idea your feelings have changed for me. By all means, come in."

Lily, though flushing slightly at the blatant innuendo, glared daggers at him. "My feelings for you haven't changed in the slightest, Potter," she said coldly.

"So, why are you all here?" asked Remus curiously.

The three girls looked sheepish.

"It…it was a stupid idea," Lily muttered embarrassedly.

"Yeah. So bye!" Natalie said quickly and they all started for the door.

"Oh no you don't!" Sirius quickly got up and blocked their way out of the dormitory.

"Black!" Natalie snarled, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Get out of the way!"

"Why don't you make me?" Sirius raised a sardonic eyebrow, nonverbally challenging her.

Remus knew that he had to intervene or else they would hex each other. "Sirius, please get out of the way. Lily, Natalie, Alice, stay for a bit while longer. Now, why are you all doing here?"

His tone left no room to argue. Sirius grudgingly stepped aside and the girls reluctantly stayed where they were.

"We were getting wary of Harry," Alice finally answered. "So we decided to look through his trunk to see…well, to find out more about who he really is."

The Marauders exchanged surprised glances.

"We were thinking of doing the exact same thing," James said mildly, quirking up an eyebrow. "I guess great minds think alike, eh, Lily?"

Lily did not bother to dignify that with a response, and simply rolled her eyes.

"Anyways, we were trying to convince Moony to do it," said Sirius. "Since he's such a goody-goody and all."

"Well…" Remus had hesitated, before saying resignedly, "Very well. I guess it wouldn't hurt to check."

And so there he was, amidst the two groups, temporarily working together for a single cause: To raid Harry Peterson's trunk. They all circled around it, staring at it as though Lord Voldemort would pop out of the trunk without a moment's notice. The trunk lied there innocently. It was a very nice trunk, red with the initials H.P. engraved in gold, but it didn't look like a trunk that had secrets stored inside, begging to be discovered and explored. Finally, James had the courage to go and open it. His fingers shook only slightly as he removed the latch from the trunk. It opened quite easily, despite their thinking otherwise and the two groups were granted a view of the trunk's contents.

It had various objects: a sleek, shiny, mahogany broom that Sirius and James couldn't keep their eyes off of, a bunch of Muggle clothing, robes, sweets, a cracked and worn-out Sneakoscope hidden in a pair of hideous yellow socks, several books, several school books, parchment, quills, and-

"Look what I found, guys!" James exclaimed as he extracted a leather photo album. The others crowded around him and he slowly opened it up. It was full of wizard photographs, its occupants waving and smiling. The first and second pages were full of photos of a tall, black-haired man and a red-haired woman carrying a baby boy in her arms. Inexplicably, the small family seemed rather familiar to the two groups…

"Wonder who they are?" James asked, frowning slightly. "That bloke looks a lot like me…but that can't be!"

"For once I agree with you, Potter," said Lily, surprised. "Because if that woman is me, it can't be you!"

"They can't be both of you!" Sirius exclaimed, rolling his eyes arrogantly. "They look about twenty or so, and we're seventeen!"

"I agree with Black," Natalie said suddenly, shocking everyone with that statement, including Sirius.

"Why, Natalie!" Sirius drew himself up in an arrogant fashion. "I had no idea you felt that way about me."

"Just because I agreed with you doesn't mean I love you, Black!" Natalie snarled, irked.

Sirius quirked up an eyebrow. "Who said anything about love?" he asked in his infamous I'm-innocent voice.

"You as good as implied it!" Natalie shot at him.

"Could we please get back to the album?" Remus asked meekly, saving the day once again.

Natalie and Sirius glared at each other before turning back to the album. There was a picture of the same couple's wedding, (the bride looking stunning in white and the groom looking just as handsome in his black robes) just as they exchanged a loving kiss.

"They're probably Harry's parents," Remus deduced.

"No duh, Sherlock!" Natalie rolled her eyes, and everyone except Remus and Lily looked at her strangely.

"You guys should really pay more attention to Muggle Studies," Remus said casually as he turned a page in the album. The next pictures were more of the couple and the child that everyone automatically assumed to be Harry, although one showed two other young men standing beside them. One was devilishly handsome, with long black hair and soulful silver-grey eyes that twinkled merrily with mischief and the other one had sandy blonde hair, with deep aging lines and scars on his face.

"Who's that?" Sirius asked, pointing at the handsome man. "He looks cool. I bet he gets all the girls. The other guy looks as if he's no fun at all."

Remus, for some inexplicable reason, couldn't help but glare at Sirius before turning the page. There were two pictures, one with Dumbledore and McGonagall, although for some reason they looked much older. There was also the couple, the two mysterious young men, and a man who looked as though he could've been Snape's father.

"Wonder if he and Snape are related?" James asked, glaring at the man's haughty profile.

"Well, of course they're related!" Sirius exclaimed. "They look so alike it's remarkable. Hooked nose, horrid skin, greasy-haired–yep, definitely Snape's father or uncle or whatever."

"The second photo, however, had no adults in it, only a bunch of teenagers, almost twenty-five of them. There was what seemed liked fifteen-year-old versions of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, with a bunch of students the two groups didn't know. Although one student in particular stood out from the rest. He was a pudgy boy with a kind face. He looked like a mixture of Frank Longbottom and Alice.

"How strange," said Alice, looking at the boy.

There were also three red-heads who looked as though they were related to Ron. Two of them were twins, identical down to the last freckle, probably two years older than Harry, with identical mischievous grins on their faces, reminiscent to those that Sirius and James wore whenever they played a prank.

"I like those two," Sirius said immediately, and James nodded fervently.

"Of course," Lily and Natalie muttered.

The third redhead was a rather pretty girl with lovely hazel eyes who looked a year younger than fifteen-year old Harry. She bore a remarkable likeness to Lily.

"Though not as pretty as you, Waterlily," said James, giving a loving lance at Lily, who glared at him, though blushing slightly at the endearment.

They all noticed that the pretty redhead seemed to be stealing surreptitious glances at Harry.

"Wait, could this be the girl Harry told us about–Ginny, or something?" Sirius asked suddenly.

"Yeah!" James snapped his fingers together. "Harry's girlfriend."

She wasn't the only one who was watching Harry. There was an Asian girl with black hair and eyes who looked about a year older than Harry. She was pretty, but not as pretty as Ginny.

"Wow, Harry was popular at his old school!" Sirius wolf-whistled. "Two girls fighting over him!"

The next picture showed Harry and Ginny about sixteen or fifteen, kissing and then interrupted by a scowling Ron.

"Guess the redhead girl won." Sirius sniggered.

"Of course," James said, glancing at Lily, who looked away, embarrassed. "Ron didn't look too happy about that, though."

"Well, Ginny is Ron's sister," Sirius explained, remembering what Harry had told them.

Turning the page, there were pictures showing Harry, Ron, and Hermione and the two anonymous men, though they looked older, and the handsome young man from before had a haunted, drawn look in his countenance and the sparkle in his eye had vanished. The other man only had more gray streaks in his hair, and more aging lines and wrinkles.

Deciding that there was nothing special with the picture, they turned to see the older, sandy-haired man marrying a pretty woman with bubble-gum pink hair who looked considerably younger than him. They looked considerably happy nevertheless.

"That woman kind of reminds me of my cousin Dora!" Sirius exclaimed, surprised. "She's the daughter of my favorite cousin Andromeda. She's about four or five right now."

They then turned another page. Before they could really look at the pictures, however, Natalie stated, "Hey, we haven't seen more of that couple from the first page of the album."

"Let's just go through the other stuff," Sirius suggested, putting down the album. While they dug through more of Harry's stuff, they found several more items, including an old locket with a piece of parchment stuck in it. Curiously, they read the parchment, written by someone named R.A.B.

"'To the Dark Lord: I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it is I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intent to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hopes that when you find your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B.'," Sirius read.

This letter confused and excited the two groups. Voldemort had a secret? What was a Horcrux? Who is R.A.B.? But try as they might, they couldn't decipher the parchment. Even Lily and Remus had no idea what a Horcrux was. In the end, they had decided to set that aside.

They searched through Harry's trunk. Suddenly, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter gave out a yell of surprise when they found something that was familiar…

"What is it?" Natalie asked.

"It can't be!" Sirius gasped. Quickly, James went over to his own trunk and opened it. Digging through all his belongings, he withdrew the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cloak.

"Well, we know now he didn't steal it from us," James said shakily, pointing to the exact replica of the Map and Cloak James had on his hands.

Then how did he get the Invisibility Cloak and the Map?" Sirius queried, looking hopelessly confused. "Invisibility Cloaks are really, really rare…and we're the only ones who designed a map of Hogwarts!"

"You _what_?!" Lily, Natalie and Alice exclaimed.

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter jumped guiltily, having forgotten about the girls.

"Well, time to explain," Remus sighed, and they all began to explain about James's Invisibility Cloak and how they came to make their map of Hogwarts.

"Well, that explains why you never get caught in one of your pranks," said Natalie, rolling her eyes.

"Anyways, let's see if Harry is on the map," Remus urged.

His hand trembling slightly, Sirius pointed the tip of his wand on the parchment and said, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

The Map instantly came to life. The two groups combed the Map frantically, searching for Harry Peterson. They finally found him in the library with Ron and Hermione.

But there was something horribly wrong. It was not Harry Peterson on the Map, but rather–

"_Potter?!_" They all yelled simultaneously.

And what was more, it wasn't Ron Westely on the Map, but Ron _Weasley_. Hermione Granger, however, was on the Map, unchanged.

There was a horrified, stupefied silence. And then–

"The Map is clearly malfunctioning," Sirius stated calmly.

"The Map never lies!" James shouted. "But-but how-?"

And then everything suddenly fell neatly into place, like pieces of a particularly hard jigsaw puzzle. The couple in the album did not merely look like Lily and James. They _were _Lily and James…in the future! And the two men…they must be older versions Sirius and Remus! And the man they were so sure was Snape's father was in actuality Snape himself!

"So…that means…" James said slowly. "That Harry…is my _son?_"

Silence fell upon them again as the groups digested the piece of information.

"How…how is it possible?" Sirius asked shakily.

The answer came to them as if it fell from heaven and into their heads.

_Time travel_. Not only possible, but probable.

"Let me get this straight," said Sirius. "James and Lily apparently got married and had Harry–in the future–and now he's seventeen and managed to somehow time travel here to the past with his friends?"

Nobody answered. They all looked at each other, the shock of discovery still evident in their faces. Then, like quicksand, the truth began to slowly sink in. And then, as though a large batch of Filibuster's fireworks were lighted, everyone exploded.

"I GET TO SHAG LILY!" James whooped, beside himself with glee. "I GET TO SHAG LILY!"

"Great going, Prongs!" Sirius shouted, patting him on the back. "Knew you'd get her in the end!"

James stopped shouting and stared at Sirius incredulously. "What the bloody hell d'you mean, you're the one who discouraged me from chasing Lily!"

Sirius thought about it, and then shrugged. "Eh."

"No…" Lily stood there, pale, eyes wide with shock, shaking her head slowly. "It can't be…I must be dreaming…"

Natalie looked upset. "Why am I not in the pictures?" she yelled. "I mean, I _am _Harry's godmother in the future…"

"Ah, but Natalie," said Sirius, his silver-gray eyes twinkling in mischief. "I'm most certainly going to be Harry's godfather in the future, and if you are Harry's godmother, then we must have…" Sirius trailed off, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

Natalie's face grew stony. "I've changed my mind, I don't want to be his godmother anymore," she said abruptly.

"I can't believe that guy in the picture was me!" Sirius exclaimed, and then quickly amended, "Then again, I can–I am just so devilishly handsome now that I am even more handsome when I'm an adult!"

"You are so conceited," Remus said dryly. "You don't see my moaning and groaning about my appearance in the future."

"Which reminds me," Sirius said suddenly, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Remus. "Why the bloody hell did you marry my cousin?!"

"I don't know!" Remus tried to placate him.

"Moony, you were marrying her in the picture!" Sirius exclaimed. "I can't believe this–you're thirteen years older than her, Moony, what were you possibly thinking–"

"James, quit jumping up and down, it's annoying!" Natalie admonished sharply.

"And why not?" James challenged. "I have every right to be happy! I finally get the girl of my dreams, marry her, shag her"–here Lily winced–"and I have a son who is so cool it's unbelievable! Of course," he added, "he got it from his old man."

"Excuse me!" Lily snapped. "But he's _my _son too!"

This alarming and unexpected statement was heard over the noise and the room was suddenly quiet. Everyone turned to stare at Lily as if she had taken leave of her senses. Blood rushed to Lily's face as she realized what she had just said.

"Why, Waterlily." James quirked up an eyebrow, looking smug. "It's about time you acknowledged that you are secretly attracted to me and will eventually marry me and bear and my child."

Lily's eyes flashed green fire. "If you think that just because I have your child in the future means I'll date you, think again Potter!"

"Don't be so stubborn, Lily," James admonished her. "Don't you want Harry to survive? He's the coolest son in the world! Don't you remember how he fought Voldemort single-handedly? Come to think of it, he's perfect in every way…except his name," he added as an afterthought.

Lily's eyes narrowed into slits. "What's wrong with Harry's name?" she asked dangerously.

"Well, it's too common and plain," said James, grimacing at the very thought of it. "I mean, who in their right mind would name their kid Harry?"

"Well, now we know who won the name game," Remus said dryly as he watched Lily's face redden with anger, and Sirius, Natalie, and Alice snickered. They stopped abruptly, however, when they heard a familiar voice at the doorway.

"Um…why are you all looking in my trunk?"

The two groups turned and looked at Harry, who was standing at the doorway, arms folded across his chest.

* * *

**A/N: CAUGHT! What will happen next? Only I know! Muahahaha! Anyways, I hoped you liked this chapter just as much as I enjoyed writing it –smiles-. Now press that cute purple button and, uh, REVIEW!**


	12. Secrets Revealed

**A/N: Hello everyone! Yes, yes, it's been a week or so (I don't keep count, sorry) and I haven't updated and I'm really sorry that you had to wait. I just had a lovely new idea that I hope you would like and writing it out fully took me a long time. But before you can read this chapter, I want to say a few things first –clears throat-**

**Firstly, I would like to thank EVER****YONE who reviewed this story and put it on their favorites and their story alerts. ****The count is this: 113 reviews, 52 favorites, and ****88 alerts****! I can't deny that I'm very flattered at the popularity my story received. Since there are so many people who liked and reviewed this story, I can't thank you all individually, so I decided to give one big round THANK YOU for everyone. You guys are truly wonderful!**

**Secondly, I would also like to thank my best friend, Danni34, who ha****s**** supplied a lot of good ideas for this story and whose effort is greatly appreciated. ****Really, I don't know where she gets such good ideas! Some days my brain feels like a dry well****, and Danni34 always manages to fill it up, so to speak. Go Abbie!**

**Anyways, just wanted to say that.**** Now then, read this chapter and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****Now, while ****I may be a good writer to some, but I'm afraid I don't have the brainpower to make up an entire world, now do I?**

**Danni34**** (walking in)****: What about your novel?**

**Me (slaps forehead): D'oh!**

* * *

Chapter Twelve-Secrets Revealed

Everyone stared at Harry, and Harry stared at everyone. There was a tense silence. Harry was confused and slightly nervous at the looks the others gave him; it was as though they were first seeing Harry for the first time. He had just returned from the library when he had heard the yells in the boys' dormitory. Curious, Harry went up to his dormitory and found the Marauders and Lily, Natalie, and Alice, standing near his open trunk. No one had bothered to answer Harry's question but simply stared at him.

The silence ensued. And then-

"Harry," James said cautiously. "Do you play Quidditch?"

Harry blinked, bewildered. Not only was this question random, but it was asked with such significance that Harry couldn't help but feel that James was asking him a trick question.

Taking great care in his words, Harry answered, "Yeah. I was placed on the Quidditch team as a Seeker in my first year."

Harry had spoken the magic words. James, spreading his arms wide, came down like a hawk on Harry and embraced him tightly, exclaiming, "My son!"

Sirius was whooping, Natalie was rolling her eyes at her cousins antics, Remus was shaking his head slightly, shocked. Alice was dazed and Lily…well, she looked as though she might faint at a moment's notice.

"I-How did you find-I mean-I don't know what you're talking about," stammered Harry. His mind was racing, and he suddenly felt dizzy, but that was probably because James was cutting off his air supply. How'd they find…of course, they'd looked through his trunk and found the Map, the Cloak, and the album! Harry felt like hitting himself, and would have too if it weren't for James suffocating him.

James finally released him, though, beaming. "So you're my son." It was a statement, not a question; Harry's reply had all but dispelled the doubts in James's mind.

Harry looked at all of them and sighed. The damage had been done. It was time to tell the others his true identity.

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "My real name is Harry James Potter, not Peterson. Ron, Hermione, and I came from the year 1997. We were brought to the past–in your case the present–by accident."

"Why didn't you tell us?"Sirius asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Natalie rolled her eyes. "He obviously didn't want to change the future, whatever it is."

"Yes," said Harry grimly. "Changing the past would be very, very bad. Hermione has told me many times not to let something slip. She'll probably blow up once she hears of this."

Everyone winced at the thought. The others might have not known Hermione for very long but even they knew that she was not a person to cross when she's angry.

"I can't believe that we didn't figure out that you were James's son!" Natalie exclaimed, hitting her forehead with the butt of her hand, surprising everyone. "How could we be so stupid? You could easily pass as his twin–"

"Except for my eyes," Harry finished, frowning. "You guys have no idea how often I hear that."

"No, but we can imagine," Lily said dryly. Although she was still rather shocked at this horrifying new revelation, she was determined not to harp on it. After all, the future can change…

"Now then," Sirius said, clapping his hands together. "You do realize that we have some questions, do you?"

Harry inwardly groaned. That was the part he had feared. The blasted questions. But the strangest urge suddenly seized him; Harry realized that he rather _wanted _to tell his parents and friends about his life. It was, of course, an impossible desire, completely out of the question, but it did not disappear. Perhaps he could simply tell them things that won't compromise the future. Small, inconsequential little tidbits about him and his friends that won't in the slightest change the future. Yes…why not a compromise with himself?

"All right then," Harry agreed and everyone broke into grins of jubilation. "But on two conditions."

Everyone looked warily at him as though Harry was asking for a dragon's egg and a screaming Mandrake.

"What conditions?" James asked cautiously.

"Firstly, if I can't answer your questions, don't argue," replied Harry. "If I can't answer your questions that means that affects my time if you know certain things."

The Marauders and Lily, Natalie, and Alice looked at each other, nonverbally agreeing that this was a fair condition.

"All right then," Sirius agreed. "What's the other condition?"

At this, Harry smiled. Ah yes…the other condition. Just because he would reveal bits and pieces about his life, Harry thought, does not mean that he would be the only one doing a bit of revealing.

"I want to know about Maira," Harry said bluntly.

It was remarkable the reaction that occurred just with the mention of the burgundy-haired villainess. Everyone stiffened, and they exchanged dark looks to one another, except for Natalie, who turned away. There was no doubt about it; there was something fishy going on.

"Well…?" Harry prodded gently.

There was a pregnant pause, and then Natalie spoke.

"It's alright, guys," she said to them. "I'll tell him."

"Natalie–"James began worriedly.

"It's alright, James," Natalie repeated firmly, a stubborn look in her countenance. Wisely, no one argued with her, though Lily and Alice looked worried.

Natalie thought a moment about what she wanted to say. The room was completely silent, eerily so. When Natalie did finally speak, her voice reverberated slightly around the room.

"It happened long before I was born," Natalie began quietly. "My dear old father"-said with bitterness and sarcasm-"had gone to Spain on business. He was Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the time and was on some business or another. He was engaged to my mother at the time, the wedding scheduled to be right after his return to England. There, he met Maira Villarreal."

Harry looked at Natalie, an idea slowly forming in his head. Could Natalie be insinuating what he thought she was insinuating…?

"They became lovers the whole six months he was there." Her tone was surprisingly cool and nonchalant, as though talking about her father's past rendezvous with women did not bother her in the slightest. "And then my father returned to England and married my mum, forgetting all about Maira. Well, Maira was of a vindictive sort and…well, my father always told me that she never really loved him, said that her heart was captured and broken by another, and that he had merely caught her on the rebound. In any case…the results were not pretty when Maira found out about my father's engagement. She made a promise to kill my father…and later on, me."

Harry felt shocked. This Maira sounded almost as worse as Voldemort, and yet Natalie seemed perfectly okay with the knowledge that a crazed murderess was after her blood. Of course, Harry was also fine with Voldemort hunting him down because of the prophecy, but it took him years to be come to terms with it. It just wasn't the same…was it?

"You must been afraid of your father's life and your own," Harry stated awkwardly.

"Well, surely mine, but of my father I didn't really give a damn for," said Natalie casually, as though they were talking about the weather. The others stiffened, knowing what was coming next. "For my father is not my father, biologically nor emotionally. You see, I'm a bastard. Dad caught Mum in _flagrante delicto_with the barkeeper's son. It was a real blow to his pride to have been cuckolded and to take in a bastard daughter he had to shelter. He hates me, you know." Her calm mask flickered for a moment before Natalie hitched it up again.

"But that doesn't matter," James said, wrapping his arm around his cousin.

"No, it doesn't," Lily agreed, loyal to the end.

"Yeah," Sirius chimed in. "If you weren't a bastard, I would still hate you."

"Likewise," Natalie said dryly, making everyone laugh, and even Sirius let out what resembled a chuckle. "Anyways, enough of my soap-opera worthy past, it's time for questions!"

Everyone nodded eagerly, and Harry groaned. "All right, ask away," he said, resigned.

"What year were you born?" James asked him.

"1980," Harry replied, thinking it was safe to answer the question.

"That would be when we are…" James calculated quickly in his head. "Twenty-one years old! Man, that's a bit young to be having children, is it?"

"A bit, yeah," said Harry. "Well, anyways, the short version of my life is that I attended Hogwarts when I was eleven, I met Ron and Hermione on the train-"

"And did you become fast friends?" Natalie asked.

"With Ron I did, but with Hermione it took a bit longer," replied Harry matter-of-factly. "She was snobbish back then, and insufferable. It took talking out a troll to bring us all together."

"A troll?!" The others exclaimed.

Harry smiled slightly at the other's incredulous response, and he then proceeded to tell about his adventure with the troll. He also told them about how he became Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, (James looked almost insufferably smug at this point) mentioning Malfoy in the process.

"Malfoy? Lucius' son?" Sirius scowled, repulsed. "Well, Narcissa and Lucius do seem to get a bit too friendly lately…"

"Yeah, that's their son, and my enemy," Harry said darkly. "We hated each other ever since we've met at Madame Malkin's. "

He then told them about the rest of his years, (evasively avoiding the parts in which he was in mortal danger) and also little details that he deemed trivial enough to mention. But the others were more than satisfied with his answers. When they started asking about their future counterparts, however, that's when answering became a tad difficult.

"Do you know me from the future?" Remus had first asked.

Harry, relieved, replied, "Yeah. You were the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in my third year. You were the best we've ever had in that subject."

"Go Moony!" Sirius exclaimed, clapping him on the back and the others also showed their approval. Remus' face was colored a bright red, but he nonetheless looked pleased.

"And what about me?" Natalie asked eagerly.

"I didn't know you in the future," Harry replied regretfully. "In fact, I didn't even know my fa-James had a cousin until I came here."

Natalie looked a trifle disappointed, but then her expression turned thoughtful. "So…that means I must either be dead or abroad," she said matter-of-factly, as though talking about the possibility of her death was of no importance. The others, however, didn't seem to agree and flinched at the mere suggestion.

"And I?" Alice asked in her quiet, shy voice.

"You married Frank Longbottom and had his son, Neville," Harry replied, omitting the part where she and her husband were tortured to death and that her son was a candidate for the "Boy-Who-Lived" position.

"Go Alice!" Natalie cheered and Alice, like Remus, turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. "Well, we should've known that would happen ever since you two bumped into each other in the hallway, eh?"

This only succeeded in making Alice's face turn even redder.

"And _moi_"Sirius asked flippantly.

"You were my godfather," Harry replied, and he realized too late of his slip into the past tense. Thankfully, the others did not seem to notice, although Remus and Lily seemed to have caught it, but for some reason did not question it.

"Well, I'm glad that I was not named godmother then," Natalie said dryly. "I wouldn't want any connection whatsoever to Black."

"We will make you godmother, Natalie," James said firmly, and to everyone's surprise, Lily agreed with him.

"Lovely," Sirius said sardonically. "I'm sure Lady Disdain and I would be the best of friends…that is, if we don't kill each other first."

"Funny, I agree with Black," Natalie said suddenly and everyone stared at the pair in shocked realization. "How is it possible that this day is getting weirder and weirder?"

Everyone laughed at the blatant understatement and Harry smiled brightly, and as they talked more about the future and of random things, he could feel the little flame of happiness burn brighter with each minute that he was around his parents and his friends.

---------

"YOU DID WHAT?!!!"

And the bright flame of happiness was suddenly extinguished when faced with a certain bushy-haired friend's wrath.

Harry sighed, steeling himself. Ron and Hermione had come to the boys' dormitory, in search for him (as he had known, in some tiny part of him, would happen) and he very rapidly explained to Hermione that he had told the others the truth. As you can see from two paragraphs ago, Hermione wasn't at all pleased.

"Harry James Potter, how could you-"Hermione started her tirade.

"Hermione," Harry interrupted hurriedly, "I had to tell them anyway because they were looking for my trunk and they saw the Invisibility Cloak and the Map!"

"Yeah, it's true," said Lily, feeling a tad guilty about violating Harry's personal space. "We're sorry, by the way," she added to Harry, and he shrugged, an indication that they were forgiving.

Hermione, however, still looked incensed, but at least she was not yelling at Harry. She glared at him and the others, hands on her hips in a very Mrs. Weasley-ish way.

"You haven't told them anything, have you?" Hermione asked shrewdly.

"Yes. But nothing important," Harry hastened to add because Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously at this.

"Not even of…you know," Hermione said significantly.

Harry almost immediately grasped what Hermione was insinuating; she was talking about Voldemort's Horcruxes. The truth was, however, that Harry had rarely spared a thought about his inevitable mission in the two glorious months he had been in the past. Thinking about it would mean waking up from this lovely dream and having to face the harsh, bitter wind of reality. Of course, Harry had known that one day Dumbledore would find a solution to his problem and would be able to send Harry, Ron, and Hermione back to their time, and that's why Harry was determined to relish each single moment with his parents to the fullest, so that when he finally left, there will be no regrets, only the sharp pain of sadness that would most assuredly assault him when the time came.

"No," Harry said in answer to Hermione's questions. "I didn't tell them anything about that."

And with that, Hermione finally relaxed and the others let out a breath they didn't realize they were holding. Sometimes Hermione was so intimidating and formidable that it brought even Lily to shame.

"Well," Hermione said in a softer, and yet resigned tone. "I suppose it couldn't hurt for them know certain things. As long as you two don't let anything slip," she added sternly at Harry and Ron.

"We won't," Harry and Ron assured her simultaneously, like the perfect little angels they were. **(A/N: Yeah, right.)**

"You guys are acting so cagey," Sirius remarked, and then added half-jokingly and half-seriously, "Looks like the future seems much more complex than we thought."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged significant glances.

"You have no idea," Harry said grimly. "Just coming into the past complicated things even more than they already were."

And, though unbeknownst to our time-travelling trio and the others, their life at Hogwarts would get even more strange and interesting, if even possible.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore, headmaster at Hogwarts since Merlin knows how long, had seen and heard of many strange and unusual things in his a hundred and fourteen years on this earth. But he had to admit, this was the weirdest occurrence Dumbledore had ever witnessed…well, second to weird occurrence, he amended mentally. And the day had started out so normally…or as normal as normal could be when you're living in Hogwarts. But then, Dumbledore observed wisely, the thing about strange or unusual occurrences was that they were always unexpected, which gave them their definition. It wasn't until evening, however, when it happened.

He was sitting in his office, researching a way to get the three time-travelers back to their time. His efforts had doubled ever since the Hogsmeade incident and Dumbledore knew that it was not safe for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to remain in the past. Feeling frustrated at his lack of progress, he got up and paced about his office, eventually stopping to look out his window outside. The grounds were completely deserted, and yet serene. The last few golden rays of the sun were fading from the periwinkle sky, throwing the grounds into near darkness.

And yet Dumbledore clearly saw a girl pop out of nowhere, lying down on the grass, unconscious.

Of course, Dumbledore felt shock (which surprised him, as he thought that nothing could surprise him now) at the sight of the girl, and his first instinct was to go outside and help her. But he had hesitated, debating on the notion that the girl could simply have been a hallucination, or that there simply wasn't anybody there at all. Could it be dark enough for his eyes to play tricks on him? Still, he decided to go down to the grounds and investigate.

There she was, lying on her side, her long, ebony hair sprawled across the cool, jade-colored grass. So she wasn't a hallucination. She was much older than Dumbledore had first assumed, about fifteen or sixteen years old. Perhaps she was one of his students? No, she was wearing Muggle clothing, blue jeans and a simple red top. But then, where had she come from?

Although he was baffled by the mystery of the girl, Dumbledore bent down, took out his wand, and muttered, "_Ennervate"_. She had stirred and her eyes fluttered open. Her eyes moved around to take in her surroundings before they landed on Dumbledore, and she jumped.

"Who're you?" the girl demanded, wariness in her eyes. She had the queerest accent, an unusual mix between American and British, but Dumbledore didn't notice that until later.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Dumbledore replied truthfully.

The girl stared at him, dumbfounded. "What?" she exclaimed. "How can I be at Hogwarts, I–"But then she caught sight of the towering castle, and she openly gaped at it. This proved to Dumbledore that the girl was not a student here.

"I take it you don't go to Hogwarts?" he asked, just to make sure.

The girl turned sharply to face him. She looked as though she could not speak, and simply nodded.

"What is your name?" Dumbledore asked her.

The girl immediately looked wary, but after a few moments she decided to answer. "Tanya," she answered.

"Tanya," Dumbledore repeated the unfamiliar name, thinking over his options quickly in his head. Finally reaching a decision, he said to her, "Why don't we go up to my office? There we can talk."

The girl hesitated, and then nodded, standing up and following him to the study. And there Dumbledore was, sitting down behind his desk, the girl–Tanya–sitting on a chair, telling him a most interesting and most shocking tale. She was born in England, and was raised in it half her life before going to America and living the other half of her life there. She was raised by her British mother, and she did not know who her father was, nor have met him, for her mother always refused to tell her. She was homeschooled, though her mother decided that this year she would be attending Hogwarts, therefore returning to Britain.

"But I wasn't to enroll until next week," Tanya explained. "That's why it I was shocked when I got here."

"How did you get here?" Dumbledore asked with his renounced calm.

She didn't know. All she knew was that she was in her room, thinking about the father she was dying to meet one day, when she suddenly felt extremely dizzy, and she thought she had fainted. When she came to, she was here, at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore put the tips of his fingers together, frowning deeply in thought. The appearance of the girl was certainly a mystery, but something was nagging him from inside, insisting that there was more to this than he realized. And also, the girl seemed unusually familiar to him…

"Tanya, what year were you born?" Dumbledore asked her.

Tanya looked at him weirdly, but nevertheless answered, "1982. Why do you ask?"

This was most unexpected! Dumbledore was completely shocked at this revelation. Not only did this girl appear at Hogwarts grounds in a mysterious way, but that she had actually managed to _time travel_back to the past! Remarkable, but wasn't it impossible? Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione had a way of getting to the past with the unusual Time-Turner, but how did Tanya did it? It was nothing short of remarkable.

"Because," Dumbledore said slowly, in answer to Tanya's question, "This is the year 1977."

Tanya stared at Dumbledore as though he had turned into a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. "You're kidding!" she exclaimed. "Isn't this the year 1997?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. It seems you have somehow time travelled back to this time."

Tanya gaped at Dumbledore several moments, clearly shocked beyond belief at the new piece of information. Dumbledore felt bad for her in her situation, and perhaps that's why he proceeded to add, "Three of our students have recently joined us, all from the future. They're about two years older than you, I believe."

Tanya cocked her head in a gesture that looked familiar to Dumbledore, looking curious, but did not speak.

"Well then, it seems that Hogwarts will have one more exchange student," Dumbledore finally said. "Just one or two questions, though. You mentioned that your mother is British?"

"Yes."

"Then I assume that she attended Hogwarts at this time?"

"Yes," Tanya answered again, and a bright look of excitement and curiosity dawned on her face as she realized that she would be attending Hogwarts with her mother.

"All right then, you'll simply need a new surname," Dumbledore decided. "Is your mother married?"

"No, but she goes by my dad's surname," Tanya replied.

"Well, what is your father's name?"

Tanya told him, and Dumbledore's face grew pale with recognition.

"Are you quite sure, my dear girl?" Dumbledore asked incredulously.

"It's the only thing I know about my father," Tanya answered, bitterness lacing her tone. "And I've found out by accident while I was looking through my mum's stuff."

Dumbledore exhaled sharply. Well, this was most surprising news indeed! One of his brightest students, someone he had been so sure would be the least likely to fall in love and have children…then again, hadn't Dumbledore sensed already that there was more to this future than met the eye? And looking at her more clearly, Dumbledore could see a resemblance…no wonder the girl had looked familiar.

"You're in luck, then," he told Tanya. "For your father is attending his last year in school. Of course, you two would be different years, so there isn't a large possibility for you two to meet…"

But Tanya looked as though Christmas had come early. It was the same look, Dumbledore noticed, that Harry had when he found out that he was in his parent's time, only it hadn't been too obvious then.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Well then, until I find a way to bring you and the other three students back to your time, you will be posing as–yet another–exchange student. Your name shall be Tanya…"

"Bryanston," Tanya said suddenly. Dumbledore raised his eyebrow questioningly and Tanya blushed.

"I read the name somewhere," she muttered. "It was the only thing that popped into my head."

"Bryanston it is," said Dumbledore, though the name had sounded vaguely familiar to him. "Now then, you will be Sorted accordingly to the House you most belong in. In the meantime, I shall arrange proper accommodations for you. Simply contact Professor McGonagall and explain to her your situation. I shall have to discourage you from exploring the castle and meeting other people until I introduce you. Tomorrow morning I'll introduce you to the student body as Tanya Bryanston. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Tanya answered innocently, though Dumbledore wasn't fooled. Still, he didn't say anything.

"Very well, then. You may leave."

Tanya stood up and walked to the door.

"Tanya?"

Tanya turned to face Dumbledore. "Yes, sir?"

It was silly, really, to be asking the question when it was of no importance. It was no more than curiosity of who had captured his student's affections in the end…

"Who is your mother?"

Tanya complied, and yet another shock rippled through Dumbledore like an earthquake. The least likely person to fall in love and have his child was Tanya's mother! Humans are so complicated when it comes to the ways of the heart.

Absorbed in his thoughts, Dumbledore gave Tanya a dismissive nod and she left. What a strange year this was! First there came the three time-travelers, then the Hogsmeade incident, and now the appearance of a mysterious girl also from the future! So many surprises, and it wasn't yet winter!

But this also meant that Dumbledore needed to get the three–now four–of them out of this time and into their own time quickly. Who knew how it might affect the time-space continuum if there were so many people from the future? The results could be catastrophic. Of course, mind-wipes would be necessary, but still…

In any case, he would also have to keep an eye on young Tanya. Knowing her parents superbly well, she would either be a girl who attracted trouble or loved to cause it. Dumbledore dearly hoped it was the former. She hadn't seen like that, but then again, she had just travelled twenty years back to this time into a place she knew only in her dreams and fantasies.

But one thing was certain, Dumbledore thought as he prepared to busy himself in his books again, and that was that this year would be the most interesting he's ever had yet, and that was indeed saying something.

* * *

**A/N: Whew! That was long. Well, folks, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! Just when you thought that I would reveal everything, I spring something like this on you, eh? It's so fun being evil -smiles-. And now the only thing left to do is to press that little purple button and tell me what you thought a****bout it!**** REVIEW!**


	13. Tanya

**A/N: Hello, guys, I'm back! Sorry to keep you waiting, but I had a little too much fun with the chapter and as a result wrote a 7,599-word chapter (excluding the A/N). The most I've ever written, I think. The first part of the chapter will be rather solemn, but things lighten up considerably afterward. **

**Oh, and about your guesses of who Tanya's parents might be…I'm not telling. But before you kill me, I have every right to do so, as I am the author. However, I am touched at the amount of reviews I received and your guesses. Thanks for everyone who guessed, but my lips are firmly sealed. Anyways, R&R!**

**Disclaimer: Yes, I do own Harry Potter…and I'm also the Queen of England (an apology to Danni34 for stealing your much-loved phrase).**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen-Tanya

_A tiny, eleven-year-old girl was pushing her trolley in Platform Nine and Three Quarters, which was overflowing with students. Everything wa__s blurry and black-and-__white, like an antique photograph. __A strange girl she was, with burgundy hair, porcelain skin, and dark emerald eyes that were simultaneously attractive and mysterious. She was quiet, flanked by __a man who seemed like her father__, two middle-aged women__ that looked like __twins__ and her two other siblings. One of them, who was boy, looked two years older than her, with the same burgundy hair__ and pushing another__ trolley__, and another,__ who was a girl, seemed younger, about eight or nine, with black hair and sapphire eyes the same as their father's. She was staring around the __busy, buzzing platform with wide, excited eyes. __However, the two women merely scoffed, casting disdainful eyes at the scarlet-adorned train.__ What was strange was that they all had the same pale porcelain skin._

_"Why can't I go to Hogwarts too?" the young girl cried__, looking with pleading eyes at her imperious-looking father__"__Mai__ is allowed to go, but why can't I?__"_

_"__Don't call me Mai," said the burgundy-haired girl, but not without much emphasis; it was__ clearly__ an involuntary reaction._

_"Your sister got her letter," said the father shortly. "And when the __time comes__, you'll get it as well."_

_"Pah!__ Don't fret about it so.__ Go to Hogwarts and learn their overly-controlled branch of magic? You'd be better off staying home," said one of the women dismissively. "There surely can't be anything they teach there than you can't learn at home."_

_"But Hogwarts sounds like so much fun, Aunt Isabella!" protested the youngest. __"Marcial has been there a year and he's told us. Right, __Marcial__?"_

_"Oh, yeah,__ it's__ oodles of fun," said the boy offhandedly. "Only you have to take a test in front of the entire school and then if you pass it–and that's unlikely–you'll have to suffer through those hideous beatings in first year–"_

_"Shut up, Marcial," the burgundy-haired girl__ interrupted smoothly__, noticing her younger sister growing pale__. "Mia, don't listen to him; he's full of bull__–__"_

_"Maira Rebecca!" cried Isabella's twin, shocked. "This is a public place!"_

_The girl named Maira rolled her eyes, exasperated by her two aunt's maiden sensibilities. _

_"Fernando, you need to buck up__ and make the girl learn some manners," said Aunt Isabella reproachfully__ to the father__. "I can see it now; she'll walk all over you just like–" But then she stopped, embarrassed, and fell silent._

_The family maneuvered through the crowd, reaching the train__ and Fernando helped Maira and Marcial put their trunks in the compartments. As they did so, Aunt Isabella gasped, and turned to her sister._

_"Cecilia, would you look at that?" she asked her in scandalized tones, and without waiting for a reply, she grasped her twin's arm and made her turn around. __Aunt Cecilia also gasped at the shocking sight._

_"My word! A boy here, all alone? And these wizards, letting him!"__ Aunt Cecilia shook her head, clucking disapprovingly. "How…how shocking!__ And he's about the same age as our Maira.__"_

_Maira, getting curious__, turned around to see what her hare-brained aunts were talking about. Although the platform was full of people going to and fro,__ the tall, __handsome__ boy with dark hair and pale skin__ seemed to stand out from the crowd. He was alone like Maira's aunts have described, b__ut he didn't look lonely. In fact, he was silently looking around the platform at the people, and Maira could feel his awe and__ a strange,__ wild happiness as clearly as if he had shown them on his countenance. __Curious, she continued to stare at him for a minute or so when he suddenly swerved around __and his eyes met hers directly. A great jolt of epinephrine shot through Maira's veins, her heart skipped a beat, and that's when time completely halted in its tracks. The noise of the platform was suddenly muted.__ Maira could suddenly sense something __Maira didn't withdraw her gaze from his, more fascinated now._

_"Maira. Maira!"_

_Her Aunt Isabella's snappish voice made Maira reluctantly rip her gaze from the boy's__ eyes, unreasonably annoyed at the interruption_

_"What, daydreaming, are you? Run along now, the train is about to leave!"_

_Right after she said that, there was the train whistle blew. Maira quickly gave her father and her two aunts__ a kiss on the cheek__ and then climbed onto the train with her brother__, their trunks already on the train. __Maira looked around, but the pale boy had gone. That was strange. Maira was puzzled at first, but then decided to forget about the b__oy. Perhaps she had just a figure of her suddenly overactive imagination, product of her frazzled nerves. __As the train began to move, Maira and Marcial stood together and waved briefly at their father and aunt before disappearing from the inside of the train. Mia watched lo__ngingly as the train started to accelerate__, resisting the urge of running along__side of it. _

_Aunt Isabella sighed and turned to Fernando. "Well, I hope that you haven't made a mistake in sending her to that school. Who knows? She might end up like her mother."_

_"I know what I'm doing, Bella," Fernando said quietly, but firmly__ his eyes fixed on the scarlet train as it disappeared from view. "Or at least…I think I am." _

* * *

  
Tanya awoke as lightly as though someone had dropped a feather, soundlessly. Her eyes cracked open and she was instantly blinded by the light. With a muttered oath, she shielded her eyes with her pillow, rubbing them, trying to make them adjust to the sudden light. She was definitely _not _an early riser. Eventually, however, her eyes adjusted and she sat up in her bed, looking around her surroundings. Okay…so the part about arriving twenty years back into the past was not a dream, so the dream about that burgundy-haired girl was the dream. Such a weird dream; Tanya was sure that she had never heard the name Maira before, nor any of the other names mentioned. Like all her dreams, it was in black and white, but the clothing they wore looked much older than even the clothing in this time. But the weirdest part of it all-and the part that freaked Tanya out-was that the family was speaking in _Spanish _and yet Tanya could understand every word! Her imagination scared even her sometimes. But it had seemed so real, almost like a memory…

Tanya stretched, suppressing a shiver at the freakiness of the dream. She'll think about the strange dream laterNow onto more important matters…such as, where the bloody hell was she? Surveying the room more closely and with a critical eye she saw that she was in a plush, comfortable room with no defining colors or theme. What was this room? Tanya's eyebrows contracted together in thought. She vaguely recalled that Professor McGonagall–a strict, severe-looking woman–had led her to what she called the Room of Requirement, and had also explained its use to her. Well, there was only one way to certify it.

"I need…a glass of water," Tanya said experimentally, her voice reverberating around the empty room, and after a quick glance around she saw that a glass of water had appeared on top of a small table beside Tanya's bedside. Tanya arched an eyebrow, impressed. This room was certainly convenient. Tanya then thought about her conversation with McGonagall, and smiled mischievously. Thinking back on it, she was actually a bit sorry about giving McGonagall a few more gray hairs, but the professor had been so strait-laced that Tanya couldn't resist teasing her. They were walking along the hallways and Tanya decided to engage Professor McGonagall into some harmless conversation.

"Are you really as old as you look?"

Okay, admittedly not as harmless as she had thought. Wincing slightly, she now recognized the question had been very rude, but Tanya was at times rather tactless. It was one of those traits her mother claimed a good many times was inherited from her father. And it also didn't help that Tanya had an unnatural curiosity that landed her in trouble more times than not. Of course, the professor had been properly indignant.

"The insolence!" Professor McGonagall had exclaimed, obviously shocked.

"I only meant to say that you look as though you've been at Hogwarts a long time," said Tanya quickly and immediately regretted it. Professor McGonagall's nostrils started to flare, and even Tanya knew that it was a bad sign.

"Uh…how is Hogwarts by the way?" Tanya asked innocently, quickly changing the subject and therefore steering herself out of cold waters.

Professor McGonagall, sadly, wasn't ready for a subject change. "Who are your parents?" she had demanded. "Because frankly, I'd like to know what students of mine passed on their audacious genes to you."

Tanya couldn't resist grinning. Really, she was starting to like this professor. "So you know I'm from the future?"

"Professor Dumbledore trusts me," Professor McGonagall had replied with a hint of pride in her tone. "He shares almost everything with me."

Tanya quirked up an eyebrow, looking amused. "Really?" she asked in a sly tone, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "What else do you and Dumbledore…share?"

Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall heard the innuendo hidden in Tanya's words and was disgusted.

"Miss Tanya!" she exclaimed. "I've never seen such impertinence as this…well, actually I have," she added grudgingly.

"Who?" Tanya asked, interested.

"Just a student of mine named Sirius Black," said Professor McGonagall. "A prankster, has had more detentions than anyone else at Hogwarts. Merlin, that boy has been the bane of my life these last six years teaching…"

And then she had let out on a rant about the mysterious Sirius Black, and Tanya was silent, letting McGonagall vent off her feelings without interruption, her head cocked to one side in a gesture of curiosity. Finally, though, McGonagall seemed to have composed herself, though her face was still a bit red from all the talking.

"So," she said, slightly breathless. "You didn't answer my question earlier."

"Oh," said Tanya, her mind blank. Should she tell her?

"Well?" McGonagall asked, a mite impatiently.

"Well, I'm not sure whether to tell you or no," said Tanya truthfully, and then grinned. "Your health, you know."

Professor McGonagall's face grew redder in indignation. Tanya watched her curiously. So McGonagall was sensitive to her old age. Who knew?

"I assure you, I am perfectly capable of handling whatever you tell me," Professor McGonagall said stiffly.

Tanya shrugged. "Okay…" And Tanya told her. She waited for Professor McGonagall's response, but there was silence. Frowning, Tanya turned to her but found that McGonagall was not there. She stopped and looked back to see Professor McGonagall standing there a few feet away, clutching her chest and looking unnaturally pale. She exhaled and inhaled sharply, hyperventilating. It looked as though she was having a heart attack. Tanya looked at her, wondering whether she should call someone for help when McGonagall seemed to calm down and eventually she composed herself.

"Well," she said, flustered and breathless, "That was unexpected."

Clearing her throat, she straightened up to her full height and walked in her usual dignified, purposeful stride. Tanya gaped at her for several long moments and took McGonagall going past her to break her gaze and, shaking her head, hurried alongside her. After reaching her destination, McGonagall gave quick instructions on how to activate the room and a goodbye to Tanya and practically ran away in the opposite direction, leaving Tanya standing there alone, nonplussed.

So now Tanya was here in this Room of Requirement, about to be enrolled into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Well, no point in dawdling. Tanya got up and quickly got dressed in some clothes the room provided. She didn't know where the Great Hall was, but she supposed she could always follow the crowd. She headed towards the door and opened it. The seventh floor was deserted. Crap. Now, which way should she go? Tanya hesitantly went right, vaguely recalling that it was direction McGonagall had hurried away to. She then went down to the ground floor, recalling that the Great Hall was located, and she saw a crowd of students talking and laughing with each other on the way to breakfast.

_Well,_ thought Tanya happily, _that__ was easy._

Trying to blend in-and failing dismally, as some people caught sight of her and erupted into whispers-Tanya followed the crowd to the Great Hall. She also didn't have to look for Professor Dumbledore for he there he was, standing near the doors.

"Hello, Miss Tanya," he greeted her, twinkling eyes and all. "I trust you've had a good night's sleep?"

Tanya seriously considered the question. "Yes," she answered. Except for the dream, she added mentally. But really, it hadn't been an absolute nightmare; it was just a weird, freakish dream that she just happened to have.

"Lovely," said Dumbledore and together they made their way up to the staff table. Tanya smiled inwardly, thinking that she would have a great time at Hogwarts.

* * *

"You're staring at her again."

Snape closed his eyes, begging God or Merlin or whoever it was up there to grant him patience. He slowly turned to his companion, glaring at him.

"Yes, I am," he hissed. "Now that we've established that little fact, care to leave me at my only hobby of pleasure?"

"If you call staring shamelessly at a Mudblood a 'hobby of pleasure'." Samuel rolled his eyes. He was rather tall, with dark brown hair that looked almost black from a distance and hazel eyes.

"Shut it, Reid." Snape growled menacingly.

"When you are in a bad mood, you tend to stare at her," observed Samuel unexpectedly.

This caused Snape to blink in surprise. Finally. The habit Snape had of not blinking was really starting to grate on Samuel's nerves. "What in blazes are you talking about?"

"It's as though Evans is your only comfort left," continued Samuel relentlessly. "That if you stare at her you'll suddenly be transported into a time when the two of you were friends, drinking your little tea together and giggling over a Potions cauldron-"

"We did _not _giggle." This was said with a tone of cold finality.

"Whatever. You know what I meant," said Samuel dismissively. "So? Am I right or am I right?"

Snape glared at him and then proceeded to attack his bacon as though it had done him a great personal wrong. "You're as perceptive as usual," he said in his normally cool voice.

"I'd have to be, or else I would've never found out that you were in love with Lily Evans back in fifth year _and _keep it quiet from the others and–most importantly–from the Dark Lord."

"If you're going to speak about _him_, do keep your voice down," said Snape dryly, but earnestly. "And you only kept it a secret through blackmail."

"It wasn't serious blackmail," said Samuel, taking a gulp of his pumpkin juice. "I merely said, 'Become my friend in exchange for keeping your secret'. Really nothing bad."

"You didn't phrase it like that," said Snape, rolling his eyes. "I believe you called it 'someone to keep you on your toes'."

"Isn't that the role of a friend or a confidant?"

"Stop it, Reid," said Snape in a dry tone. "You are clearly fighting a losing battle. Pray stop before you further embarrass yourself–and most assuredly–me."

Samuel laughed, clearly unfazed at Snape's rudeness. "Now I know you've gone back to normal when you go back to your lovely, vicious self. Really, it's amazing how a little Mudblood can shake you up like this."

"You know how I feel about her, Reid," Snape said through gritted teeth. "So please do not make me repeat it."

Samuel rolled his eyes. "All right, since you're so eager to change to subject, are you still convinced there's something wrong with the exchange students?"

"Yes," replied Snape tenaciously. "There's something about them, and–what is Lily doing sitting with _them_?!"

Samuel looked over at the Gryffindor table and quirked up an eyebrow. My, my…this was certainly interesting. Evans and her friends were sitting with Potter's group, along with Peterson, Westley and Granger. They were all laughing at something or another, and they were all talking as though they were the best of friends. Samuel's stomach churned at this disgusting sight.

"Ah," he said quietly, his eyes darkening. "It seems that Potter has befriended the new exchange students, and managed to get the most popular girls at Hogwarts as well. How…usually like him."

Snape said nothing, eyeing Samuel quietly. Although Samuel would never let on, Snape could sometimes sense a wild animosity toward Potter, almost as strong–or, as Snape feared, perhaps stronger–than Snape's. He didn't know why Samuel felt this way for Potter, but Snape knew better than to ask.

"Why do you suppose that is?" asked Snape casually, though his eyes were guarded.

Samuel shrugged, and his eyes were light again. "That's the genius of Potter," he said. "He's an arrogant, big-headed fool, and yet everyone seems to like him. Even your little love doesn't seem to mind him now, does she?"

Snape froze, blanching. No, no, Lily couldn't like that _imbecile_, no way in hell! But before he could vehemently express his views, his eye was caught by the surprising sight of the headmaster walking along between the House tables with a pretty black-haired girl who looked to be sixteen years old.

Samuel also noticed the new arrival, and he looked at the new student approvingly. "And who is that lovely bit of muslin?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "Going to chase after her, now are you, Reid?"

Samuel gave him one of his infamous dry grins. "And? Just look at her, Snape–now, how could I ever resist _her_?"

Snape gave a brief, dismissive glance at the girl before turning toward Samuel. "I don't see what's so special about her. And besides, if that is indeed a new student, what if she gets Sorted into Gryffindor? Will you still chase her then?"

Samuel scowled at Snape, but couldn't reply as Dumbledore and the mystery student had arrived at the Staff Table and Dumbledore was calling order. Pretty soon the Great Hall was quiet, and Snape and Samuel had to postpone their conversation.

"I apologize for interrupting your hearty breakfast," Dumbledore began. "But once again, we found ourselves with a new exchange student, Miss Tanya Bryanston. Right now we will borrow a few minutes of your time and Sort her." He then nodded to Professor McGonagall, who then brought out the Sorting Hat. Tanya hesitantly sat down on the stood and put the hat apprehensively on her head. Her mother had told her about the Sorting Hat, but still, it was a bit hard to believe that an old, dingy hat can know everything about a person and Sort said person into their respective house. The hat was big enough so that it slid all the way down to the middle of her forehead, its wide brim thankfully obscuring the silently watching students out of view. Tanya waited, silent.

_Ah_, came the voice, and Tanya felt herself twitch in surprise, _another "exchange student" I see. From the future, eh? Now that's something I haven't seen before. And you've been homeschooled, I see, so I haven't had the pleasure of Sorting you. And yes, this is the hat talking to you and no, you're not mad._

_Excuse me! I'd like for you to get on with this Sorting thing and stop probing my mind!_

_But I have to, my dear, _the infuriating voice chuckled. _Or how would I be able to Sort anyone?_

_Sod off._

The voice chuckled once again, clearly amused. _My, you're a feisty one, with a bit of a temper__. You also have a bit of a savage tongue, though__, and very witty besides. You could belong in Ravenclaw…though you are rather good-natured most of the time. Hufflepuff would be a good choice for you as __well;__ though I have a feeling you won't like it. You could do well in Slytherin, I suppose, but if I Sort you there, your parents will hunt me down and kill me, and I have no intention of going sooner than I would've expected._

_What? How__–__how d'you know my parents? And don't you think you're exaggerating a bit? I mean, it's not like they will ever know. _

_I told you, I know everything about you. And__ I__ don't think you will keep the secret of your being from the future from them__ for too long before they discover the truth__. So no, I can't put you in Slytherin. Besides, you are much too daring and you have __those darling Gryffindor heroics__ that everyone prizes so much_

_How charming. Thank you real__ly, that does wonders for my self-esteem_

_Ouch. You really to have a sharp tongue, do you? A pity you didn't saw fit to spare me, a poor hat. If you don't watch it, you could end up in Ravenclaw. Anyway, where was I before__ you oh so rudely interrupted me? Ah yes; I was contemplating the pros and cons of putting you in Gryffindor. You would be better suited for it, I suppose, but then again, being with your peers might trigger your…er…less nobler qualities._

_Do you really have to insinuate my less-than-perfect personality or do you do it because you enjoy it? Just put me in damned Gryffindor__ already__ so I could go on my merry way and never see__, er, hear__ you again!_

_Boss__y as well_, the voice mused, sounding not at all disturbed by Tanya's rudeness. _Alright, I'll put you in GRYFFINDOR!_

Relieved, Tanya took off the hat and, after shooting a dirty look the hat, who looked still and innocent-looking, she went to the Gryffindor table (she thought it was because it was the table who was clapping the loudest) and sat down on one of the seats, muttering darkly about the stupid hat.

"Well, that's it for your daily breakfast entertainment," said Dumbledore cheerfully, and the students chuckled. "Please continue with your breakfast." He then sat down on the headmaster's chair and was promptly engaged in a conversation with Professor McGonagall, who looked serious and was doing gestures towards the Gryffindor table and–Tanya's insides squirmed unpleasantly–towards Tanya.

Tanya looked around, noticing that many people were sneaking less-than-covert glances at her. Her previous irritation with the hat now fading away, an uneasy apprehension took its place. _Now what? _

* * *

"A pity, really," sighed Samuel, regret in his tone as he watched the new girl go to the Gryffindor table.

"Reid, your tastes confound me," Snape told him bluntly. "Or perhaps your inability to know a Gryffindor when you see one."

"Oh, and you knew from the very start that Evans was–or was going to be–a Gryffindor?" Samuel asked in a sarcastic drawl and Snape flushed.

"Be careful, Reid." Snape growled. "You're gliding on thin ice here. One move…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you'll take care of me," said Samuel in a bored tone, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, I don't see why so many people think you're dangerous. I think that, deep down, you're really a Gryffindor."

Snape was so taken aback at this that he spat out his pumpkin juice, thereby spraying some on Samuel. Needless to say, he wasn't pleased.

"Charming, Snape." Samuel grimaced.

"Your amazing capability of saying outlandish things would be your undoing someday," Snape growled menacingly, eyes flashing. "_Me_ a Gryffindor? Reid, what are you-"

"Quit acting," Samuel interrupted. "I really truly think that you are a Gryffindor at heart, beneath all the multiple layers of sarcastic wit and greasiness. And you're not alone either. Do I act like I belong in Slytherin?"

Snape stared at Samuel before shaking his head. "You're crazy," he said. "Even if you have a point you're crazy. Its one thing to say to me that I'm a Gryffindor but for _you _to say it to _yourself_-"

"Haven't you ever felt as though you are both a Slytherin and a Gryffindor?" asked Samuel, cutting off Snape. "I do. Sometimes I think that even though I clearly am a Slytherin, I'm a bit…er…non-Slytherin in some ways. For example, I didn't tell anyone about your crush on Evans–oh wait; it isn't a crush, is it?"

Snape glared at him for the last part, but he did think that Samuel had a point. He still thought all Gryffindors were so disgustingly noble and good, but deep down he could recognize his own not-so-evil-and-or-sadistic qualities. Snape could only guess that Samuel was not the stereotypical Slytherin everyone knew. In fact, was there such a thing as the perfect Slytherin?

"Don't you just hate it?" Samuel continued in a quiet voice. "You don't want to be like that. You are ambitious, you desire power, acceptance, and yet you feel that you can't acquire those if you don't shut down every dredge of pity or compassion or love. Ah well," he added, shrugging. "You got to do what you got to do. In the end, it pays off."

"Reid?"

"Yeah, Snape?"

"You're a bloody bastard, you know?"

"Actually, I do, Snape. I do."

* * *

"Sirius, stop drooling, you're wetting the cloth."

Sirius, snapping out of his dream-like trance, turned to glare at Remus, (who, of course, was the proprietor of the dry remark) though a little flush crept up his cheeks. This surprised Remus, as Sirius seldom blushed.

"Moony, I am not drooling!" Sirius declared indignantly, even while surreptitiously wiping the string of drool that clung precariously to his mouth. "I was merely checking out–I mean, observing the new member of the female population. There is no law against that, is there?"

Remus sighed. "You are hopeless," he told Sirius, and Sirius grinned unrepentantly.

The trio and James, Lily, Natalie, and Alice laughed. Harry hadn't felt this happy and carefree since he first arrived here…or since forever, it seemed. He felt like he was finally with a family he had always wanted, but had been denied of ever since he was one. And best of all, they all seemed to accept him for who he was. James, of course, was ecstatic that one day he will have a son with the love of his life and this fully renewed his hope of getting Lily one day. Sirius thought that it was wonderful that would have a godson in the future, and a cool one at that and Remus was amazed and astounded at this "miracle" (the Marauders had been almost convinced that James wouldn't get Lily and they were a bit disconcerted to find out otherwise) but was nevertheless pleased. Natalie and Alice had also taken the news extremely well (although Natalie was a bit sad that Harry didn't know her from the future and that her godmother status was in question) as well as Lily. This surprised Harry, as he couldn't forget Lily's obvious shock and horror at finding out that she will marry a boy she seemingly detest and have his child, but Lily assured him that she had no problem with him. In fact, Lily rather liked Harry, but seemingly turned a blind eye to the fact that he was also James's child. Harry couldn't help gleefully noting, however, that she wasn't her usual vicious self with him.

"Just look at her, Moony!" exclaimed Sirius, gesticulating towards the new girl, sitting by herself. "Isn't she simply gorgeous?"

"She is rather pretty," Remus admitted. "But you don't see me ogling her like an idiot."

"I agree with Moony here, mate," said James, amused.

"Not you too, Prongs!" Sirius exclaimed, chagrined. "Prongslet, you're with me, right?" And then Sirius turned his puppy-dog eyes full force on Harry, who resisted the urge to laugh. After finding out Harry's true identity, Sirius had taken up calling Harry "Prongslet" as a token of affection. Harry didn't mind, was in fact pleased by the affectionate gesture.

"If you like her, Sirius, why don't you ask her to join us?" suggested Harry, deciding to be neutral. "If everyone doesn't mind."

"Nah, we don't mind," said Lily, and then she frowned thoughtfully. "She looks rather familiar, though."

"What do you mean?" asked Natalie, confused. "You've met her before?"

"No, no," said Lily, frowning in concentration as she stared at the girl. "It's just her coloring looks familiar."

"It's weird," said Hermione, and everyone looked at her quizzically. "The Remus and Sirius of our time didn't mention the new exchange student."

"Really?" Sirius looked very interested at this. "Did our future selves tell you a lot about our years at Hogwarts?"

"Not enough in my opinion," admitted Harry, and was struck at how bold the statement was; it was rather uncharacteristic of him to say those sorts of things. "But it was probably not important for you to mention."

"Somehow, I don't believe that," said Lily dryly, gesticulating with her head at Sirius, who had returned to ogling the new girl again. "It seems that our Sirius has found a new little girlfriend."

"If she accepts to date him." Natalie sniffed. "If she is a sensible girl she'll reject him."

"Then we are the only girls that have sense in this school, then," said Alice dryly.

"Of course," said Sirius, flashing one of his infamous Sirius-grins. "Then again, the reasons I didn't date you four are very sound."

"Oh?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "Let's hear it then."

"Well, I didn't date Lily for three extremely important reasons," said Sirius solemnly. "One, James would kill me. Two, James would kill me. Three, James would kill me."

James and Lily both glared at Sirius, blushing hotly, while everyone else laughed.

"Also, Alice has Frank," Sirius continued after the laughter died out. "And believe me when I say that I draw the line at seducing taken girls."

"Of course." Natalie snorted. "Because you're such a bloody noble person."

"And of course," Sirius said loudly, ignoring Natalie's sarcasm. "I won't date Lady Disdain because she's a harpy and a shrew and I hate her."

"Good, because I rather die than date you, Black," snapped Natalie.

The trio and Lily, James, Alice, and Remus exchanged exasperated glances. Sometimes it seemed that the chances of Sirius and Natalie getting along together was zero, zip, zilch, nada, none. And the chances of them not killing each other while in the other's presence was, if possible, even less so.

"Hermione, though, I dismissed out of the fact that she knows me from the future. However," Sirius added flirtatiously, tossing his long silky hair and giving Hermione an alluring grin. "I might just change my mind if the lovely Miss Granger will…accept my advances."

Hermione, however, laughed. "Sorry, Sirius," she said to him, not sounding apologetic at all. "I can't do that."

"Can't or won't?" Sirius flirted, but nevertheless backed off. As it turned out, this turned out to be very beneficial to his health as Ron, for some inexplicable reason, was bright red and looked as though he would very much like to throttle someone. Or hex them until their grandchildren felt it. The latter was more probable.

"Anyways, why are still here, Padfoot?" asked Remus, quirking up an eyebrow. "I thought you would go down and turn on your infamous Black charm already on the poor girl."

"Why, Remus," Sirius said, surprised, but nevertheless beaming in gratitude. "Thank you for reminding me!"

Remus moaned at his folly while Sirius stood up, telling them in a very matter-of-fact voice, "Now, I am entrusting on you lot to spread the news of my being taken off the single market. I'm sure my die-hard female fans would be absolutely devastated, so I am counting on all of you to break the news gently to them."

"Sure, sure, Sirius," said James in a condescending tone, rolling his eyes. "We'll tell them for you."

Sirius nodded soberly, seeming to take James' word seriously (no pun intended). Then he immediately brightened up.

"No need for any of you to say good luck," said Sirius brightly. "I won't need it."

To which he was greeted by several overlapping comments from his friends, most of which were patronizing "Oh, sure, Sirius" or "Of course you won't need any help" and several among those lines. Sirius, however, didn't seem to let his friends' lack of support deter him. Straightening his robes slightly and checking the back of his shiny steel spoon to check out his reflection, (of course, he didn't want to make any moves on her with, say, scrambled egg stuck to his teeth) he walked–more like strutted–toward the lovely new exchange student. As soon as Sirius was out of earshot, James turned to Remus.

"A Galleon that she'll reject Sirius?" James asked, grinning widely.

Remus smirked mischievously, something that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had never seen him do. "You're on."

"Oh, great, now that idiot Black is going to cozy up to her," growled Samuel, his face dark. "Great, just great. And most likely she'll be dazzled by his charms, of course."

"Life is so predictably unfair," Snape said bleakly; even though he in particular had no interest in the girl, he could sympathize with Samuel. "Look, there he goes."

Sure enough, there was Black, talking–or flirting, to be precise–to the black-haired girl with the slightly exotic name.

"Wait a minute…" Samuel narrowed his eyes at the pair, and then gasped as the sight registered before his eyes. "What in the bloody hell…?"

Snape looked at where Samuel was staring at and for the first time in his dreary life, his mouth dropped open at the revolting, gruesome, repulsive, (and many other adjectives that mean "disgusting") sight…

It was official; the world had gone completely and irrevocably mad, for Tanya Bryanston was flirting shamelessly with Sirius Black.

"Hello there," said a suave voice near Tanya, and she jumped and turned toward the speaker of the voice. It was a very handsome boy about a year older than she was, with ebony black hair and unusual, but lovely, slightly familiar silver-grey eyes that twinkled with mischief. He had clearly defined, chiseled features and a body that many females would lust over in their dreams and then when morning comes feel guilty over when they're back in their boyfriend's arms, and that's when they'll secretly be glad that they didn't have such a succulent member of the male species in their grasp.

In other words, he was a dangerous boy that she and the rest of the female population would do well to stay away from. Far away from.

Tanya gave a tinkling laugh. "Why, hello to you too," she replied in the most flirtatious voice she could muster, grinning widely at him. One of Tanya's attributes was her fondness to playfully flirt with the opposite sex. It was harmless, of course, and only done to boys whom she felt comfortable with. That was completely contradictory, as she had just flirted with a boy she'd never met, but surprisingly, Tanya felt oddly comfortable around him. It was probably just his charisma, or the fact that he was just too bloody handsome.

Sirius returned her grin into one that was, surprising, almost identical to hers. If he was surprised at all by Tanya's blatant flirtation, he didn't show it. "Sirius Black, at your beck and call, love," he said to her, winking.

Oh, that would be–wait, Sirius Black? The Sirius Black? The bane of Professor McGonagall's life? Co-leader of the dreaded Marauders? The seducer of poor innocent souls? Oh, dear.

"Actually…I have a boyfriend abroad, sorry," lied Tanya hastily. Too hastily.

"It's quite alright, you know," said Sirius, giving her a mock sigh of regret. "I can tell when I'm not wanted. Making up a boyfriend so you could get rid of me? You wound me, love, truly you do." And then his sorrowful countenance changed abruptly, and he grinned lasciviously. "But then again…perhaps if you give me a kiss I'll feel better."

Tanya couldn't help but laugh. Sirius Black was indeed a womanizer through and through.

"Sorry," she teased. "You just aren't my type."

Sirius tsked. "Don't be silly, my dear; I'm every girl's type. But never mind that, eh? I'll find a way to get into your heart–"

"And into my pants?" joked Tanya, and had to resist bursting out laughing when Sirius's expression turned thoughtful.

"That's a thought," Sirius said somberly, and both he and Tanya burst out laughing, attracting the gazes of many slack-jawed students, including the Golden Trio and the Marauders and co. A fuming James silently gave the Galleon to Remus while Remus received it with a triumphant smirk on his face.

"Now that we made the subject of my unattractiveness clear," said Sirius after they have stopped laughing. "Want to go and meet my friends?"

Tanya pretended to contemplate his offer, even while secretly bursting with excitement. It was her chance to make friends during her stay at Hogwarts; she might as well have a bit of fun in this time since it seemed that she was going to be stuck there for a quite a while. But will they mind her intrusion?

"Are you sure?" Tanya asked him, hating the uncertainty that crept up her tone. "I don't want to be a bother to anyone."

"You won't be," Sirius said dismissively. "I'm sure my friends will love you. I know I do," he added with a wink, and Tanya rolled her eyes.

"All right then," she agreed, and she stood up. "Lead the way."

And so Sirius led Tanya to where his friends were, producing a wave of surprise and then resignation among the others. Typical of Sirius to get whatever girl he wants. Sirius, however, seemed oblivious to this.

"Everybody, this is Tanya Bryanston," Sirius said to them. "Tanya, this is my friends, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Natalie Potter, Alice Kalke, Harry Po–er, Peterson, Ron Westley, and Hermione Granger."

Tanya looked over at each person Sirius mentioned and had to hastily stifle a gasp when Harry Peterson was introduced. This was no Harry Peterson. It was Harry Potter, unmistakable by that scar on his forehead. But she knew him from her time–or heard about him at any rate (after all, who didn't know about him?). But what was he doing here, in this time? The answer came to Tanya before she had even framed the question in her head. Of course, he is one of the "exchange students" Dumbledore had talked about! Well, well, well…her sojourn to the past has gotten even more interesting.

"Pleased to meet you." Tanya smiled at them, sitting down. In response, there were scattered "Hi's" and "Nice to meet you's".

"So Sirius, what was up with the laughter?" asked James. "What would were you two giggling about?"

"Oh, that," Sirius said offhandedly. "It was nothing. Just me expressing my undying and unwavering commitment to win fair Tanya's heart. And before you say anything, yes, she did reject me, and yes, Remus, you have to give the Galleon back to James."

Everyone gaped at Sirius in astonishment while Remus, groaning, gave a grinning James two Galleons.

"How did you know about the bet?" asked Ron, awed.

"Nobody has greater hearing than I have," said Sirius proudly, as though having such a dog-like trait (hint, hint) was something many others would die to have.

"That would make sense," said Natalie dryly. "Since at times I rather think of Black more as a mongrel than a human being."

They all laughed except for Sirius who, remarkably, didn't take offence at that and merely smiled at Natalie, shocking everyone in the vicinity who happened to watch the miracle smile; they couldn't remember, in their living memory, a time when Sirius had ever voluntarily smiled at Natalie.

"Yes, Lady Disdain," he said calmly, "Perhaps I am more like a dog than you might think." And then promptly, without warning, he engaged in conversation with Tanya, blatantly ignoring Natalie's look of rage. "So…how is it like in America?"

His question came so fast and was so unexpected that Tanya blurted out, "It's okay, I guess. The only difference is that they say things differently there."

"Fascinating." Sirius beamed at her and thereafter the conversation began. Slowly the others began asking her questions about America and about herself. Tanya, in turn, slowly relaxed and started acting like her good-natured self. Pretty soon she had everyone roaring with laughter and captivated by her dry wit and genial disposition. Even Natalie and Lily, who were inexplicably in a bad mood, and Hermione, who was also a bit subdued, laughed along with the others. It is hard to tell why exactly Lily and Natalie were in a foul mood, but here are some observations the others made and then promptly forgot about:

It started with Ron (of all people) vaguely noticing that Natalie had the ketchup bottle in a tight grip, gripping it so hard that ketchup spouted from the bottle and magically stained Peter's trousers, making him cry out (but of course, it wasn't loud enough to be heard by everyone and Ron simply didn't care about the rat and so forgot about the incident, but not before noticing that it was while Sirius had started to flirt again with Tanya).

The next was Harry, who saw with trepidation that Lily had stiffened, her emerald eyes flashing and narrowing at James. But when Harry looked at James, he saw that he wasn't doing nothing to irk her, was in fact simply laughing at one of Tanya's jokes. Hopelessly confused, Harry reluctantly turned back to the conversation.

The next observation was Remus's. He had noticed Hermione's temporary absence in the conversation and he turned and saw Hermione stabbing her kippers viciously with her fork, as though they have done her a great personal wrong. Remus puzzled at this, and looked around to see if something had happened that angered her, but all that he saw was Ron talking to Tanya animatedly about whether Quidditch or Quodpod (a wizarding sport popular in America, but not in the rest of the world) was better.

And lastly, there was Alice. Although Alice was quiet and shy, she was unusually perceptive, her wide baby blue eyes taking the scene in. She looked first at James, Sirius, and Ron, who were grouped around Tanya, and then at Lily, Natalie, and Hermione staring sullenly at their plates. She looked at the boys, then the girls, then the boys, then the girls, as though watching an extremely interesting tennis match. And then finally, she sighed, shaking her head at the drama. Whether dear, insightful Alice knew the reason the girls were in such a foul disposition, no one will ever know.

Later, though, the Marauders and Harry and Ron had to run to Transfiguration, and when they arrived, breathless, Professor McGonagall was not in a very good mood. With dealing with Tanya last night and her renewed annoyance with the Marauder's continued tardiness to her highly respectable class.

"Detention, Mr. Potter, Black, Peterson, Westley," she said sternly. "And do not be late again."

Harry and Ron groaned, whereas James and Sirius grinned unrepentantly, used to getting detentions daily, and Remus shook his head and Peter just chewed on his fingernails…as per usual. They all sat down in their usual table from the far back of the room.

"Isn't she something?" Sirius asked them all in low tone, beaming.

"You mean Tanya?" James asked, cottoning on rather quickly. "Oh, yeah. She's so cool. Kind of reminds me of Natalie."

Sirius adopted a shocked look on his countenance. "Don't say that, James, are you bloody mad? She isn't like that harpy at all! She's smart, funny, and is gorgeous besides! In fact, I'm thinking of making her my girlfriend."

"I don't know, Sirius," said Remus, amused. "Tanya didn't seem to be interested in you much."

"I demur," said Sirius in a mock-pompous voice. "She even flirted with me when I first talked to her, and when she said my name she lied and told me she had a boyfriend. It was probable that someone told her that I was a womanizer, a seducer of poor innocent souls, and therefore she lied to keep herself safe from my clutches. But I know she finds me as attractive as I find her."

"Keep dreaming, Padfoot," said James dryly. "I still don't think that I reasonably sensible girl like Tanya could ever dream of becoming your girlfriend."

Sirius pouted. "Prongs, you're simply no help! Prongslet, you're with me, right?" And once again he used the frightening power of his puppy-dog eyes on Harry.

"Sorry Sirius," said Harry regretfully. "I think James is right." He, like everyone else, had also been charmed by Tanya, but didn't seem to think that Tanya could ever be with Sirius, since she had shown no interest in him.

"Like father, like son," huffed Sirius and then turned to Ron. "Ron?"

But Ron shook his head. "Don't look at me, mate," he said.

Sirius looked annoyed here, but then quickly gave them a lazy grin. "Ah well, who cares if you don't think Tanya likes me or no? I'm still going to win her heart and make her my girlfriend. Mark my words!"

To which James, Remus, Peter, Harry, and Ron rolled their eyes in unnerving perfect unison.

"Oh, damn, I almost forgot!" exclaimed James, thereby receiving a stern glance from McGonagall.

"What?" asked Sirius quizzically.

"You know…" James lowered his tone. "The thing that we are planning to do with Harry…"

For a moment Sirius looked confused, but then after a few moments he slowly grinned in realization while Remus groaned, also remembering.

"What about me?" asked Harry cautiously, feeling a slight trepidation; he had been in the past long enough to know that whatever plan James and Sirius were cooking up wasn't good.

James noticed Harry's apprehension and rolled his eyes. "Relax, we aren't going to torture you. We don't bite. Well, not to the people we like," he added hastily at Harry's skeptical lift of his eyebrow.

"We're just going to do a slight…experiment," said Sirius mysteriously.

Now Harry and Ron were really freaking out. There are some words that, said by the Marauders, that were considered ominous and that you should run away from the second you hear them come out from one of the Marauder's lips. This was, of course, one of them.

"Tell me what it is," Harry almost demanded, really starting to feel uneasy.

James slowly started to smile, growing quickly into a large grin. "We're going to the Quidditch pitch."

* * *

**A/N: Well? How do you like it? Yeah, yeah, I know what you all are going to say: WHAT THE FREAK, SIRIUS LIKES TANYA?!! THAT IS, LIKE, SO GROSS! Need I remind you that it is you, the reader, who have decided that Tanya is Sirius and Natalie's daughter (as the majority of you have guessed). As for me, I am merely continuing my story in my own way. Maybe Sirius will fall in love with Tanya, maybe he will fall out of his crush and pursue another unfortunate and susceptible member of the female species. Maybe Tanya is Sirius and Natalie's daughter and maybe she's not and the clues given by me, the omniscient author, are red herrings to make you believe otherwise. Maybe J.K. Rowling, taking pity on me, will give me the rights to Harry Potter and maybe she won't. **** No one knows…except for me! For the first two, I say, "Not telling". For the last one, I say, "Of course!" After all, no one can resist my charm and methods of persuasion! Also, yes, I just had to give Harry his father-son Quidditch outing, no matter how cliched it is and overly used. I mean, what's a time travel story without some father-son bonding time? Hope you aren't disappointed by it. Now, then, enough of my nonsensical ramblings, now REVIEW!**


	14. A Quidditch Match To Remember

**A/N: Hi, I hope I didn't keep you waiting so long! If I did, I'm sorry; I have an actual excuse this time. You see, my imbecile of a brother has been glued to the computer seat for approximately three days. Three days! I would have probably finished this chapter of Monday or on Tuesday, but because of **_**him**_**, He-Who-Must-Be-Detested-and-Scorned, I have to submit this chapter today instead. If you are murderously angry, I can assure you it will be no great loss to me my brother has a little…ah…**_**accident**_**, if you know what I mean (winks). Anyways, hope you all like this chapter, that I did a good job on it. R&R!!**

**Disclaimer: Jo is avoiding me now, so I can't bargain with her the rights to Harry Potter. She seems to think I'm mad. But no matter; I'll get the rights to Harry Potter, and then the entire world will be within my grasp! I will be respected, revered! Muahahahahaha! **

* * *

Chapter Fourteen-A Quidditch Match To Remember

Harry was still in a bit of a daze when they–"they" meaning James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Ron– finally went down to the Quidditch pitch, and even when he changed into his Quidditch robes and borrowed Sirius's Cleansweep 7 (since Harry had a better broom, it would be a disadvantage) the shock didn't wear off. Never, in his dreams that included him talking to his parents, had he'd dared to imagine something like this. For the first time ever, he was going to have a friendly Quidditch match against his father.

"To see if you're really as good–or even better–than Prongsy here," Sirius explained cheerfully as they went down to the Quidditch pitch, and then he lowered his voice at Harry, his tone pleading, "Please win, Prongslet; I made a bet with Remus and you know how Moony likes to gloat."

"I heard that," said a disgruntled voice behind them and James, Harry, and Ron laughed at Sirius's chagrined look. It was a very pleasant evening, the evening sky streaked with fiery mixtures of entwining reds, oranges, violets, golds, even faint tinges of periwinkle blue. The evening air was crisp and sweet.

"You should learn never to make bets against me, Padfoot," said James, amused. "You might just lose."

"But I, unlike you, have complete confidence in Prongslet's Quidditch skills," Sirius declared, draping an arm across Harry's shoulder.

"Talk about misplaced loyalty!" exclaimed James in affronted tones. "So is Harry here to be your new mate? I am to be replaced? By my own son?"

"If you continue in that vein, _James_, then yes!" Sirius turned his head away from James, sticking his nose pompously in the air. "I am through with your possessiveness! I have rights, you know, and for the moment I need space!" He turned to James and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head regretfully, a faux-pained look on his countenance. "I'm sorry, Prongs–but the magic is gone. I think it's time to take a break from each other. You must let go."

And with that, the laughter they all had been holding in burst out into paroxysms of humor.

"I said it once and I'll say it again," said Remus in a breathless voice, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. "I am surrounded by idiots."

"Ah, but we're _lovable _idiots," said Sirius, a twinkle in his silver-grey eyes. "There's a clear distinction."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron, sending them into gales of laughter again.

"Anyways," said James, sobering up. "Here's what we'll do. Sirius is going to let go of the Snitch and we'll try to find it and catch it. Whoever catches it first is the clear winner."

"I thought you were a Chaser, though," said Harry, confused.

"Yeah, but I can play the part of the Seeker as well," explained James. "I am the reserve Seeker for the team. I'm simply Chaser because I enjoy it better than Seeking." Then he turned to Sirius, quirking up an eyebrow. "Want to reconsider betting against me?"

"Nope," answered Sirius lightly. "I made the bet knowing all of this, remember?"

They finally arrived at the Quidditch pitch. Harry was relieved and pleased to see that it was the same as he remembered, which was comforting to say the least. The stands looked a lot newer, though.

"All righty then," said Sirius cheerfully, dropping the Quidditch crate down with a loud BANG and opening it, ignoring his friends' cringe at his lame "all righty then". "Mount your brooms."

James and Harry obeyed and mounted their brooms.

"On my count," said James. "One–two–"

"Wait a moment!" It was Sirius who interrupted. James turned to Sirius to stare at him incredulously.

"What?" asked James impatiently.

But Sirius didn't seem to hear him. Turning to Harry, his expression became…pleading?

"Please, Harry," he pleaded, his puppy-dog eyes wide and sincere, "Take good care of my baby."

And that was, sadly, the undoing of the Marauders and Harry and Ron. Henceforth they were plunged into the dark, frightening abyss of insanity and mirth and they were never quite right in the head afterwards. For years to come, not a single one of them will be able to forget the moment in which Sirius had called his broom his "baby".

"Shut up!" Sirius cried indignantly at his friends, who were rolling and slithering on the ground like snakes, but were definitely howling like werewolves on the full moon (an apology to Remus for that inevitable comparison). "It's not my fault that I am weirdly attached to my broom! Prongs has a nickname for his broom as well!"

At this, James stopped laughing and gave Sirius the dreaded "Glare of Death", renowned for ending and/or ruining about fourteen lives, the majority of them bestowed upon Severus "Snivellus" Snape, some Slytherins unlucky enough to incur his anger and, of course, upon Lily's prior boyfriends. Of course, Sirius, being Sirius, merely quirked up an eyebrow, unfazed and looking unbearably smug.

"Is that true, James?" asked Remus in a barely perceptible voice, given that he was overcome by a violent fit of sniggering.

"I was six!" was all the confirmation they needed, as well as James's steadily growing red face, to go one inch closer to death by broken ribs and excessive laughter.

"Idiots," gasped Remus again, trying vainly to recapture the last dregs of composure he had left and failing miserably.

"Can we get to the match already?" demanded James impatiently. "Enough laughter at my expense–Sirius, get up and be quiet! You have to let the Snitch out, remember?"

"All right, all right, leave your hair on," Sirius sniggered. Composing himself as best he could, he bent down and opened the Quidditch crate. "Go up in the air and I'll release the Snitch."

Harry and James nodded and mounted his broom, kicking from the ground, and soon they were airborne. Harry exhaled, feeling the cool air whip about his face and the wonderful, glorious bubble of happiness and ecstasy in his chest that flying gave him. It has been too long, far too long since he'd been in the air again. Harry looked over at James, who sported the same look of happiness on his countenance. Could it be that James felt the exact same way about flying as Harry did?

"All right, I'm letting the Snitch out!" yelled Sirius from below. Immediately, Harry and James' eyes were fixed on the tiny golden fleck below, and when Sirius let it out, they saw

the Snitch for a brief second before it whirled away, the light buzzing of its silver wings growing faint as it put as much distance as possible between them. The two Quidditch players flew off in opposite directions, in search of the elusive Snitch, their keen eyes moving restlessly to and fro.

Meanwhile, at the stands, the others watched them, (except for Peter, who, it was noticed, was so afraid of heights that just watching Quidditch made him feel queasy) awed by the technique of father and son. Their styles were extremely close, except that James's style was more graceful, more relaxed than Harry's, and yet Harry was swifter, his movements on his broom sharper, more brusque. Of course, that might be because Harry was unused to the slower brooms of this time. And yet they were both invariably good Quidditch players. Sirius, Remus, Ron, and Peter watched them, wide-eyed, awed by the spectacle they were witnessing.

"_There _you are!"

Roused from their intense scrutiny, the boys jumped and looked around for the source of the voice. It was Natalie, accompanied by Lily, Hermione, and Alice.

"Oh, it's you, Lady Disdain," Sirius said contemptuously. "What brings you here?"

"Where is Harry?" Natalie demanded, ignoring Sirius's question. "Because if you've done anything to him, I swear I'll–"

"Natalie, calm down," Hermione advised. "And you too, Lily."

"Whoa, whoa," said Remus, forestalling a possible argument. "What are you on about?"

"Well, Peter let slip that you all were going to do something to Harry and naturally, given your reputation, we thought–" Hermione began, always the rational one.

"That you would involucrate Harry in some stupid Marauder scheme of ours," finished Lily bluntly. "We were merely worried that you might corrupt Harry."

"Marauder scheme? Corrupt Harry?" Sirius let out his bark-like laugh. "Never!"

"For once in my life, I agree with Sirius," said Remus, which shocked everyone, including the author. "We aren't corrupting Harry…at least, James and Sirius hadn't tried yet. We're just letting him and James have some father/son bonding time together–"

"Through Quidditch," finished Sirius, gesturing towards the airborne duo, "which means that you all better scram."

"What?" Natalie was indignant. "Black, you can't kick us out–"

"We have every right to be here–" Lily said furiously.

"Sirius, we cannot deny them the right to watch the match," said Remus, frowning.

"They are distractions," claimed Sirius. "If Harry sees them, then he'll get distracted, and if he gets distracted, the less the chance of him catching the Snitch, and if he doesn't catch the Snitch, I'll lose my precious twenty Galleons to Remus, who will undoubtedly rub it in my face all day long, and if he rubs my loss in my face, I'll get very cranky, and believe me, you don't want to see me when I'm cranky."

There was a silence. And then–

"That is the most ridiculous speech I've ever heard in my entire life," Lily stated bluntly, and everyone agreed, even the omniscient author.

Before Sirius could defend himself, however, Peter yelled, "Look!"

Startled, they all turned and saw Harry diving, with James right at his heels.

"He's found the Snitch!" Sirius yelled excitedly, jumping to his feet. "Go Harry!"

"Wait, where is it?" asked Lily, confused. "I don't see it…"

"Wait a moment…" Ron trailed off wonderingly.

"They're going to crash!" Peter shouted, and he promptly covered his eyes with his hand.

WHOOSH. Harry sharply pulled out of his dive by going straight into the air, but James managed to avoid hitting the ground by also pulling out of his dive, having seen, just in time, that there was no Snitch. Everyone in the stands was gobsmacked.

"That was bloody awesome!" Sirius looked as though he had just taken a hearty swig of firewhiskey. "What _was _that move?"

"The Wronski Feint," provided Ron smugly. "Future Quidditch move."

"Whoa," said an amazed voice, and everyone turned and saw Tanya standing there, her eyes wide as she took in the scene.

"Tanya!" cried Sirius, beaming brightly. "How lovely it is to see you!"

"Your reception of me is encouraging," Tanya said dryly. "Considering that we last saw each other at dinner, barely fifteen minutes ago."

"It was a very long fifteen minutes," said Sirius, sighing, as though he actually believed it. "Well, what are you standing there for? Sit down, sit down…"

Tanya accepted the invitation and sat down next to Natalie, and Sirius seized the moment to squeeze himself in between them.

"Are you quite sure that I'm allowed to watch this?" Tanya asked. "I overheard you at lunch before and something about your tone told us that it wasn't an open invitation."

"Of course!" exclaimed Sirius. "Don't be silly, m'dear; how can I deny you the pleasure of seeing two talented Quidditch players trying to best each other?"

Sirius's hypocrisy was not at all lost on the others, but no one looked as furious as Natalie. To put it simply, Natalie looked as though she would like nothing better in the world than to Avada-Kedavra Sirius, cut him up into little tiny pieces, throw the pieces into a large vat of toxic poisons, and feed the lot to a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. In fact, she began, as a useful, productive way to vent off her anger, to plan Sirius's tragic, but imminent death, and the plethora of delicious possibilities for the deed whirled inside her head…sticking him in a room full of the SBFC (the Sirius Black Fan Club) had its merits…

Sadly, Sirius was oblivious to Natalie's evil intentions; he was too busy lavishing his attention on Tanya, who looked more interested in watching the match and was, frankly, uncomfortable about it all. His behavior was so woefully pathetic that the others started taking a leaf out of Natalie's book (although they merely wanted to hit him on the head with an axe and/or other equally acceptable tool for bringing people to their senses, not kill him) and also for the author to wonder what would happen if Sirius inexplicably got hit in the head by a ten-ton weight?

"Huh, that's funny," Sirius said suddenly.

"What's so funny?" asked Ron, confused.

"I just felt a tingling in my scalp," said Sirius thoughtfully. "For a moment I almost felt like something was going to hit me on the head. Weird."

Before anyone could do more than stare at Sirius as though he had just sprouted horns at his unorthodox confession (and it indeed was unorthodox, for can you imagine the wholly innocent and certainly non-mischievous author making Sirius feel such things? It's inconceivable!) Peter gave a shout:

"Look, Harry's diving! He's seen the Snitch!"

Indeed, the little traitor–I mean, Peter was right. Harry had seen the Snitch at almost the same time as James did, and immediately they both dove, following the evasive Snitch. For support, our little group jumped to their feet and cheered James, Harry, or both. Harry and James accelerated, their eyes fixed upon the little Golden Snitch, playfully evading their grasping fingers. There is to be only one clear winner in this epic Quidditch match. But who will it be? Only one will be able to tell…

Snitch POV:

The velvety grass of the pitch loomed before me as I zigzagged two feet above the ground, with two humans in hot pursuit. Nobody can say that the life of a Snitch is not exciting; if they do utter such atrocities, they are dirty liars. It's an exhilarating feeling, to wiz about and outsmarting the dim-witted Seekers, and then, when I get bored, letting them catch me in the end. You weren't expecting that part, were you? Of course I'm not stupid or incompetent; had I my way, I would play in earnest, and no one–not even the greatest Seekers in the world–would be able to catch me. You might think me arrogant or egotistical, but I assure you, sir or madam, I am not; I was merely stating an incontrovertible fact. I am even known to be the Snitch Godric Gryffindor himself caught on a match between him and Salazar Slytherin. Ha! I practically _let _the guy catch me. A little piece of information on dear old Godric here–he is an appalling Quidditch player. And I mean _appalling_. Well, I suppose he's a bit better than Salazar if he managed to beat him, but remember, I let the man catch me. Then again, he was too busy eyeing what's-her-name…Rosella? Romilda? Ah, what the hell.

Anyway, though, these two are more talented than I thought. In fact, from the blurred glimpses I've received, they look like father and son–I wouldn't be surprised if they were exactly that. They are quite a tricky pair to fool, though; more than half a dozen times they've caught fleeting glimpses at me, though I have managed to avoid them successfully. But somehow they managed to spy me and now they're after me.

I continued to stand firm by my tried-and-true tactics, however, by doing serpentine movements. I could sense their hands flaying about in a hopeless endeavor to catch me. Ha! They haven't known the extent of my abilities (and sadly they won't, for I'm not at leisure to show them off–nobody wants to play with an impossible Snitch). Suddenly, one hand brushed lightning-quick against the hard golden metal of my skin. Oops. That was close. Better be more careful.

The players' movements became more desperate. I even heard the sounds of fingernails scratching against the back of the other's hand, narrowly missing me. I went lower to the ground. I decided to speed away as quick as I could and leave them in the dust, but before I could do anything, everything went black and I found myself trapped between a pair of hands. I felt my heart sink in disappointment, as well as myself as the two Seekers tumbled to the ground. It was seldom that a Seeker could catch me unawares, but this was clearly one of those times. But when I struggled to be free, I realized one important fact: that the two hands did not belong to a single human. I knew this because one of the hands was tougher than the other. But how could that be? Unless…but was it possible?!

Well, one thing is for certain: This has been a decidedly interesting Quidditch match.

Normal POV: 

"_It was a tie_!" Sirius continued crowing this even after they left the pitch a few minutes later. By that time the sun had completely disappeared from view. "It was a bloody tie!"

"We know, Black, now shut up!" Natalie snapped.

"Well, that was an unexpected twist," said Remus dryly. "Too bad I didn't get my ten Galleons."

"I don't know why people have the misconception that Remus is this goody-goody bookworm that keeps us on our toes," complained Sirius. "We all know that deep down, he's a prankster and troublemaker, through and through."

"You keep telling yourself that, Sirius," Lily said wryly.

"Still, though, in Quidditch history no match has ever ended like that," said Hermione informatively, in her element. "In which both players catch the Snitch at the exact same time."

Nobody questioned this; it was Hermione, after all.

"But that was so bloody incredible!" exclaimed Tanya, her unusual silver-grey eyes twinkling with excitement. "Your moves were so much alike, why is that?"

They all looked at Tanya, shocked at the amount of enthusiasm said person showed.

"Sirius, methinks we have a Quidditch fanatic on our hands," James said interestedly, quirking up an eyebrow.

Sirius looked as though he had found his soul mate. In fact, he even voiced it out loud.

"I have found my soul mate!" Sirius exclaimed, beaming. He then promptly hugged a bewildered Tanya, and wholly oblivious to Natalie's stony "Glare of Doom" (inherited from her cousin, but renamed so as not to copy James. I am very sad to say that Natalie is more liberal with her glare, and has the infamous reputation of ending/ruining more than twenty lives, ten of those bestowed on an unfazed Sirius, four on her hapless cousin, and the rest on mere random people whose only crime was being stupid enough to incur her formidable wrath).

"Get off, or I'll hex you so hard your grandchildren will feel it," said Tanya stoutly, though rather breathlessly; Sirius was cutting off her respiration.

Sirius gave a long suffering sigh, and released her.

"One of these days you'll fall at my feet," Sirius prophesized, confident. "We are soul mates, you and I–you can't deny it!"

"She can deny it all she wants, Black," said a hostile voice and they all turned to see Natalie. Her face was impassive, but her eyes were like molten lava, expressing her anger in volumes. "Not every girl melts at the sight of you, and Tanya is sensible enough not to accept you!"

And with that she stormed away, leaving behind a dumbfounded silence behind her.

"Natalie–" James, concerned, started to follow her, but was stopped by Sirius.

"Let her." Sirius scoffed. "She's being a shrew, as always. Lady Disdain, through and through." And he turned and walked resolutely up to the castle, his quarry lagging behind.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and the others exchanged exasperated looks. It really seemed as though Natalie and Sirius would never get together, even though they felt that their potential as a couple was overwhelming. They have seemed to get along before now (well, if you call not insulting each other as much "getting along"). What had happened?

Harry had an idea, but he wasn't as sure. He looked at Tanya and saw, to his intense surprise, that she was lagging behind everyone else, her expression melancholy and deep in thought. Once or twice Harry caught her looking shiftily at the direction Natalie went, and he wondered whether Tanya was regretting not following Natalie.

There came a drastic change at Hogwarts, and for once it wasn't about the numerous amounts of deaths and mysterious disappearances that were a daily occurrence now (of course, the threat of Lord Voldemort–or, as the author now likes to fondly call him, "Tommykins"–and his Dim-Witted Death Eaters is increases with each passing day). No, it was about the weather changing, growing colder and colder, such so that snow, hail, and other forms of icy precipitation were common and that our lovable half-giant Hagrid could be seen tending to his precious barrel-sized pumpkins and to the poor owls forced to brave through the heavy rain, sleet, hail, snow, etc. The snow that covered the grounds and draped across Hagrid's charming cottage each morning was a clear, brilliant shade of white that looked so inviting that there were an innumerable amounts of snowball fights initiated among the students.

But of course, how could anyone forget that the ever eager-awaited Christmas holidays? More students were taking the train home for the holidays, anxious to be at home to protect their families from Lord Voldemort's reign of terror. Of course, most of the seventh-year students remained at Hogwarts, wanting to spend their last year at their beloved school before being thrust into the cold, formidable world.

Even with these grim tidings, however, everyone was excited that it was the Christmas holidays. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were initially planning to stay at Hogwarts (they were in the past, where else would they go?) but James and Lily…ah…had other plans. James was determined to invite Harry to meet his grandparents and spending Christmas with them and the Marauders, but Lily wanted Harry to spend Christmas with _her _family, even though the prospect of having Petunia and her fiancé Vernon (whom Lily fondly calls "Vermin") over at the house was little more than detrimental to one's health and sanity.

Harry was at a hopeless impasse. He wanted to please both of his parents at once, but he didn't know how to. He wanted to meet both of his grandparents, but didn't know which ones he wanted to meet the most. He was a bit intimidated about meeting his wizard grandparents, and yet meeting a teenage Aunt Petunia and future Uncle Vernon was something that he wasn't too keen on experiencing firsthand. With these strange and ambivalent emotions in him, Harry was forced to give James and Lily vague and undecided answers. He turned to Ron and Hermione for advice. Hermione suggested a compromise, but had a bit of difficulty on deciding the terms and Ron was clueless.

In the end, though, they all called a "Marauder Meeting" (so called, although more people than the Marauders attended) and they discussed the options. Well, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Remus, Alice, and Tanya discussed. James and Lily mostly yelled at each other, with Sirius egging them on and Natalie snapping at Sirius to shut up. At the end of meeting, it was decided that they should let the matter rest for the time being.

That said, everyone was in incomparably good spirits at the thought of taking a break from all the homework the professors so evilly and sadistically burdened them (in fact, the students had even started to wonder whether it was to prepare them for their upcoming N.E.W.T.'s…or if there was some evil conspiracy planned to the last detail, for the sole sadistic pleasure of watching them struggle with the hefty amount of schoolwork, to laugh at their pathetic attempts to write a decent essay on the magical properties of moonstone or to distinguish a Flutterby from the Devil's Snare!). In any case, everyone was blissfully happy and eager for the holidays.

Except for one person, that is.

Natalie was in an extremely bad mood.

This in itself was a shocking phenomenon, as Natalie was seldom in a bad mood. Her temperament was a mild, cheerful one and it wasn't in her character to yell much. The exception, of course, was Sirius, who always managed to make her yell plenty, mostly on him. But this time, unfathomably enough, it wasn't Sirius that ignited her easy temper. Or at least, he wasn't the whole reason, for once. And it certainly wasn't the thought of the holidays, as she had run away from home and from her intolerable parents when she was fifteen, and had lived with her aunt and uncle ever since. She didn't need to go to their house anymore.

No, the reason was actually that new exchange student, Tanya.

It was strange, the mixture of feelings Natalie harbored for the girl. Jealousy, however, was not one of them–well, jealousy of the usual kind. It was ridiculous to think that she would care if Sirius was besotted with Tanya. It was laughable to even consider the possibility that she cared one iota that he followed Tanya around like a lost puppy. It was ludicrous to even suggest that that's the reason that Natalie wanted to strangle Sirius (as if she needed a reason for wanting to strangle him in the first place) was because of his flirtatious advances towards Tanya! It was absurd, unthinkable…

But something even more confusing was that whenever Natalie was not plagued with antagonistic feelings that had nothing to do with jealousy (or if it was jealousy, it was simply because the girl had managed to worm her way into their group so quickly–just a petty jealousy) she actually liked the girl. The only possible defense for _why _she liked her was perhaps because it was impossible _not _to like her. Sirius wasn't the only one charmed; Tanya, with her laidback manner and charming wit, had actually charmed Natalie as well, even though she hadn't wanted to like the girl in the first place. Sometimes Natalie sensed a bit of herself in the girl, a kinship spirit of sorts, but she knew that it was ridiculous.

The blatant contradiction of feelings was simultaneously baffling and overwhelming. There were moments when all Natalie wanted to do was to pour out the vitriolic edge of her thoughts onto Tanya and there were moments in which Natalie wanted to hug and protect Tanya from all real/imagined danger. It was unnerving.

Here are the facts: on a cold wintry morning, Natalie had woken up at six from a series of dreams involving Tanya or Sirius, or both. Upon reflection, she knew that it was vain to try to go back to sleep and so decided to walk around the grounds to clear her frazzled mind.

On the same morning, at almost exactly the same time, Tanya had also awoken from a series of dreams, but of a different sort. Ever since she arrived, she had been plagued by dreams of the same burgundy-haired girl of last time, at different periods of her life, even though Tanya wasn't sure if the girl was a real person. It was very strange and confusing, often leaving Tanya's mind spinning around in a never-ending circle. Naturally, she also decided to take a walk as well.

Well, as you might guess, upon entering the grounds, Tanya found Natalie sitting at the bank near the lake, staring at the glassy, not-yet-frozen surface. For a split second, Tanya actually considered going back to the dormitory and avoid Natalie; but of course, her Gryffindorism shown through at that inopportune moment, and so she approached. Natalie, jerking out of her reverie, looked up and saw Tanya standing there, uncharacteristically nervous.

"May I join you?" she asked.

Natalie looked away, but nodded. Tanya sat down beside her and both of them lapsed into one of those awkward, uncomfortable silences that–coincidentally–they both hated so much. The reason for this is because at the presence of uncomfortable silences, both of them tended to blurt out the first thing that came to their mind, which was not usually at all clever or witty, but stupid and tactless and downright embarrassing. Sure enough, they both talked at the same time:

"Look, I'm sorry for being so mean to you–"

"I came here and then I saw you–"

"It's just Black had me so wound up–"

"I really don't blame you in the slightest–"

Natalie and Tanya both stopped when they realized that their talking had morphed into incomprehensible babbling and they both broke into nervous laughter.

"Well, that was interesting," muttered Natalie. "So you can't stand uncomfortable silences either?"

"Not particularly," Tanya admitted.

"Anyways, what brings you here?" Natalie asked. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Yeah." Tanya sighed. "I've been troubled by weird dreams lately."

"Surely not as weird as mine," Natalie commented dryly. "But we all have different ideas of what is weird or no, so it really doesn't matter, does it?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Tanya shrugged anyway. There was a brief pause, and Tanya felt an odd feeling coming over her; all of sudden, she wanted to pour out all her feelings that she'd had for the past couple of days onto Natalie, of all people. She wanted to tell her that she couldn't help it that Sirius liked her, that she was sorry that she had damaged Natalie and Sirius's unspoken truce, that she hated it when they fought…

But all that came out of her lips was the childish question, "Why do you hate me?"

Natalie blinked, confused. "I don't hate you," she blurted out unthinkingly, and she was even more surprised to find that it was true; no matter of her confusing thoughts towards Tanya, she could not hate her, not really.

"I thought you did." Why wasn't she shutting up again? "You were in a bad mood these days, so I thought it was because of me."

"Well…" Natalie felt uncomfortable. "Yes, it kind of was, but I didn't hate you. I knew that you couldn't help it that Black liked you."

"I've never really understood the intense rivalry between you two," Tanya admitted. "I was told about it, but nobody really explained it to me."

Natalie sighed wearily. "It started in first year, when Black decided that it would be fun to play pranks on me and I decided to reciprocate. Next thing we knew, we were caught up in an intense prank war and I guess we've never liked each other since."

"That seems rather petty, isn't it?" Tanya asked.

"It is." Here Natalie looked nervous. "But that's not all."

"What is it?" Tanya asked, curious, but Natalie shook her head in stout refusal.

"Sorry, but can't tell you," she said, the corner of her lips twitching into what might resemble a smile. "Only Lily and Alice know, and they would take my secret to the grave."

"That bad, huh?" Tanya asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You have no idea," muttered Natalie and then she said, "Well, enough about me. What about you?"

"Me? What about me?" Tanya asked, trepidation creeping in her tone.

"Well, I've never talked to you about your life and such. All that I know about you is that you are from America."

"Well, I've lived with my mother ever since I could remember," admitted Tanya. "We lived in England for the first ten years of my life before we went to America."

"And your father?" asked Natalie.

Tanya shrugged. "Never met him. My mum never told me where he was or if he was dead or alive. She tells me that I'm much like him, though." She surreptitiously glanced at Natalie and then quickly averted her eyes. Natalie didn't notice.

"That's sad," Natalie said gloomy. "I never knew my father as well. Well, my real father," she added in an overtone.

"Mum takes care of me, though," said Tanya, and for a moment she felt a pang as she thought of her mother at home, at the anxiety she must be causing her.

The two girls glanced at each other, and small, tentative smiles appeared on their faces. A warm, blossoming link connected them in that brief moment of time.

"You know, I think we could really be friends," said Natalie in an amiable voice.

"You think?" Tanya could feel a hopeful bubble rise in her chest.

"Sure," said Natalie. "If, of course, you can forgive me for my rudeness since you arrived. I don't know what the hell I was thinking, if indeed I was thinking."

"You don't need to apologize," assured Tanya. "You are forgiven."

Natalie flashed her a grin, and Tanya reciprocated. For the first time in weeks, their hearts were as light as a feather, unburdened by any uncertainties, insecurities, or negative emotions, and they both felt as though this could be the beginning of a wonderful new friendship.

Little did both of them know, however, that their newly established friendship was not a secret between them, that they were being watched, just four meters away, danger lurked, in the form of two very mysterious, very dangerous men dressed in black…

* * *

"Ooooh! Look, look, Mateo! Isn't the giant squid simply _cute_? Can we go and see it, please, please?!"

"Shut up, Pippin, or they'll hear us!"

"But it will only take a minute–"

"No, Pippin! And don't whine! It is unbecoming."

This was said by two complete imbeciles–I mean, very dangerous men, as described four paragraphs ago. They hid in the bushes near the lake, watching like sharks over their unlucky prey. And arguing about the Giant Squid, of course.

"Mateo, just look," said what looked to be the younger of the two, by the name of Pippin, "I can see the tentacles! And they're pink!"

The other man called Mateo looked and sure enough, out of the icy water there rose a pink tentacle, lazily flopping it around left and right and back again.

"See? It waved at me! It likes me!" whispered Pippin excitedly.

"It's kind of cute," Mateo admitted, but then he said sternly, "But we mustn't get distracted! The boss said that if we don't get the girl and bring her back to the boss…" Mateo trailed off, shivering.

"We can't do anything yet, 'cause the other girl's still with her," argued Pippin. "We'll have to wait till she's gone."

"Pippin you dunderhead! Don't you recognize the other girl? It's one of the time travelers that the boss talked to us about! She wants them as well, to inte–inter–intero–" Mateo struggled with the word. "Interrogate! Yes, interrogate them. She just told us to get the girl first because that was the boss's top priority."

Pippin screwed his eyes in thought, as though he were working out an extremely difficult math equation. Finally, he said slowly, "So we kidnap them both?"

"Of course we do!" Mateo exclaimed. "It'll make the boss happy."

"The boss is never happy," muttered Pippin and then he said, "Why do we always have to do the dirty work? I mean, kidnapping a girl and getting through Hogwarts' magical barriers–Hogwarts, the most protected magical building aside from Grimgotts–ain't a walk in the park! Why couldn't the boss do it, eh? She could've easily stepped into Hogwarts's grounds and done the deed herself!"

"Because, you dimwit, she–" Mateo broke off, frowning. "Because–" He scratched his head, his frown deepening. "Damn it, I forgot what the boss told me."

"You mean you asked her a _question_ and the boss actually _replied_?" Pippin's eyes grew wide as saucers as he gazed at Mateo with fervent admiration, as though Mateo had braved twenty dragons and fought them all off single-handedly (which, by the way, was the equivalent of asking the boss a question and getting an answer back without so much as a derogatory remark or a tanned hide).

"Yeah," Mateo said vaguely, still trying to remember. "But what was it? Hmm…" Then he suddenly snapped his fingers, causing Pippin to jump, startled. "Hey, I got it! You know how the boss is not a full witch, right?"

"Yes," said Pippin, looking bewildered. "But what's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, it turns out that she is _half _a witch," revealed Mateo, proud to have remembered.

Pippin's jaw dropped like in one of those funny Muggle cartoons. "_What_?!" he exclaimed and Mateo promptly covered his mouth, looking nervously at the bank.

"Are you mad, Pippin? We might as well just pop out of the bushes and say, 'Hello, we are two guys who are going to kidnap you for our boss. Please, to make our work so much easier, stay where you are and be perfectly still while we do the deed'!"

"Mmm mmm mmm!" Pippin exclaimed, his eyes wide as saucers.

"I was being sarcastic!" hissed Mateo, seeming to understand what Pippin had just said. "Just–oh, never mind! Be quiet, or we'll get find out by the guy with the big white beard!"

"What guy with the white beard?" was the first thing that came out of Pippin's mouth after Mateo removed it.

"Oh, you know; the headmaster of the school, what's-his-name…Bumblebore? Whatever," Mateo said dismissively.

"Well, are you quite sure the boss said that?" Pippin asked. "I mean, we're working for a half breed, and a half-witch at that!"

"It doesn't matter, Pip," Mateo said, and he gave a sigh. "We need the money so that we can follow our dreams into becoming famous actors in famous plays! We are not going to be henchmen forever, you know."

"Ooh, can I be Hamlet?" Pippin asked eagerly, a bright childish excitement in his eyes. "I do a mean Hamlet!"

"Pippin, you hardly know any of the lines," Mateo said dryly. "You don't even know his famous soliloquy."

Pippin didn't argue this, but that was probably because he didn't know what the word "soliloquy" meant.

"Anyways," said Mateo, "the point is that half-breed or no half-breed, we are going to complete the terms of agreement–"

"–Get our money–" interjected Pippin.

"–And get the hell out of here," finished Mateo.

They both looked at each other and nodded solemnly, in a manner best befitting a funeral.

"Well, I guess we should get on with it," said Mateo.

"Yes," said Pippin. "Only there's a catch."

"What?"

"They're not there anymore, Mateo."

Mateo whipped his head at the bank and groaned. The bank was indeed devoid of the two teenage witches.

"Oh, what are we going to do?" Mateo said despairingly. "The boss won't like this, won't like this at all…and it's your fault, Pippin!" he suddenly exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Pippin.

"Me? What did I do?" Pippin whined.

"Because of you, I was distracted from our job–"

"You were the one who chose to answer my question–"

"You lackwit–"

"Don't call me that–"

"Shut up, just shut up–"

"You do realize that if you persist with this infernal racket, you'll wake up the whole bloody castle?"

Mateo and Pippin jumped so suddenly that they bumped their heads together with a two simultaneous "Ow!"''s. Massaging their heads, they turned to see the person who had spoken. It was a stranger, tall and dark, with black, curly hair and unusual magenta eyes. He had a beautifully crafted nose, full lips, and a body most boys would kill to have. In short, he was undeniably gorgeous. On the soft grass beside him lay two bodies covered in brown sacks that looked about the same size as two teenage girls.

"Hey, why did you that?" Mateo asked angrily, after recovering from his shock. "And why are you here anyway? You were supposed to have been at the gate, waiting for us!"

"I grew tired of waiting for you incompetent fools to appear, so I took it upon myself to check on you two," said the man in a cool voice. "When I saw that you infernal idiots were just sitting there, neglecting your job, I decided to do it myself and receive the credit."

"You-you acted rashly, Silvio," Mateo stammered, grasping at straws. "You didn't know if they were indeed the girls the boss wanted."

"On that you are mistaken," said Silvio in a cold voice. "For I, unlike you two, don't confuse a member of one of the most prestigious wizarding families in the wizarding world for one black-haired, sapphire-eyed wench–"

"That was Pippin's fault," Mateo said quickly, ignoring Pippin's indignant "Hey!". "He acted rashly and kidnapped the girl before I could stop him."

The man called Silvio snorted skeptically. "Right. Well, whoever's 'fault' it is, it hardly matters now, does it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Pippin curiously, earning a warning glare from Mateo.

"What I mean is that the boss is not angry at you anymore for your little mistake," said Silvio coolly. "Apparently, the girl was a half-blood and the boss, for some strange reason or another, has become intrigued by the appearance of her. You're very lucky indeed that you are forgiven…temporarily, at least."

Mateo and Pippin sighed in relief. The memory of their bringing the wrong girl home and facing their boss's formidable wrath still lurked in the shallow recesses of their minds. The boss had even gone so far as to hint that if they didn't succeed at kidnapping Natalie Potter…well, they didn't want to think about the horrifying consequences.

"Well, enough of us standing here like sitting ducks," said Silvio briskly. "Mateo–Pippin–carry the bodies through the gate, and quickly."

Such profound was their relief that Mateo and Pippin didn't argue, heaving the bodies over their shoulders as they trekked toward the gate, a few feet away from Silvio.

"Well, all's well that ends well, as they say," said Mateo in a cheerful tone. "Can you believe we finally managed to kidnap Potter and one of the time travelers?"

Silvio resisted to the urge to roll his eyes at their stupidity. "We" indeed!

"That's great, Mateo," said Pippin glumly. "But…"

"But what?"

Pippin looked back at the lake and then at Mateo with big, puppy-dog eyes. "Can we please visit the squid again sometimes?"

Silvio groaned, feeling the birth of a headache coming on. _I have a feeling that this will be a very, verylong journey_.

* * *

**A/N: Finally I have finished this chapter! Geez Louise, that was exhausting! More than 7,500 words, can you believe it? But I dearly hoped that this chapter has been very excited/funny. I also hoped you enjoy the fluff between Natalie and Tanya (though for me it was rather painful to write). Now, I know you must have several questions, such as "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, MAIRA'S NOT A FULL WITCH?! I DON'T UNDERSTAND!!!!" All I can say is to be patient, dear reader, and the knowledge shall be yours to do what you will with it. However, you must have a ready, agile, flexible mind. In my head it's all pretty simple, but of course, I have no idea what my idea is going to be received, whether you will understand my explanation or whether you'll be totally lost and hopeless. In any case, you'll know in due time. **

**Oh, and one important thing: I have a poll up asking people whether they want Ginny to be in "Not Another Time Travel Story!" I only have seven people who have voted, so can you please vote so I can know your opinion? Mind you, if the majority votes yes, then you'll have to wait for a bit before I can get Ginny in there. Thanks!**

**And also, as always, be sure to review, and tell me about the new characters and the match and stuff! I'd love to know what you guys think! Review, please!**


	15. Discovery and Rescue Mission

**_A/N: Er…hi, guys. Um…I'm not dead, as you can see. –nervously laughs while you all glare at me murderously, holding shotguns and torches and spears and any kind of weapon that would hurt/maim/kill me-. Before you can kill me, I just want to say I'M SORRY! I had huge, big, gigantic writer's block…not to mention that my friend Danni34 had this great idea that I just had to write. It's a Twilight/Doctor Who fanfiction which none of you will be the slightest bit interested about, I don't think. So as a result I've been neglecting my stories, this one included. As a token of my remorse, I will let anyone who sees me walking in the street full permission to kill me. I've been horrible, haven't I? _**

**_Anyway, here's the next chapter! I have mixed feelings about this particular chapter. On one hand I hate it, think it's rushed, is mercurial at times, not my best work, etc. On the other, this chapter is very informative and has plenty of important revelations, as you will see. Anyway, please read and enjoy...I hope!_**

**--**

Chapter 15-Discovery and Rescue Mission

When James Potter woke up a few hours later that morning, he was under the impression–as everyone is when you wake up in the mornings–that it was to be a normal day. Well–as normal as it is for a Marauder. Pranks, lessons, teasing Minnie, flirting with Lily, trying to keep Natalie and Sirius not to fight, Head Boy duties (always unwelcome), and, of course, spending good, quality time with his future son and his future friends. Not quite normal by anyone's standards, really, but as we all know, James Potter is a bit beyond the average teenage wizard.

So really, it was quite a surprise for James when the door opened and Lily Evans came bursting through the dormitory.

It had begun as a normal morning. James was the third to wake as always (the first to wake was Remus, Peter, him, and Sirius, as it had always been for six years now). The tradition was a little bit changed due to the arrivals of Harry and Ron, and they didn't take long in waking up. There was the usual morning pandemonium–nothing unchanged there.

"Moony, have you seen a pair of yellow socks–?"

"No, Peter–what?"

"Ouch! Ron, you stepped on my foot–"

"I didn't do it on purpose–"

"Peter, why on earth would you wear yellow socks to begin with–?"

"Why is Sirius's shirt on the floor? And his pants?"

"Trust me, Harry, you don't want to know."

"Found them! Never mind, Remus."

"Remus, do you remember where I put the Cloak–?"

"Where you've always put it."

"…Which is where?"

At this point Sirius would wake up and as usual, the pandemonium would merely get worse. This morning, Sirius was even crazier than usual–and that was saying something.

"I just had a real funny dream last night," he said.

"What did you dream about?" Remus sounded almost weary, half his arm in his robes. "If it's the rubber ducky dream or that dream about that knight–"

"Hey, that was a very good dream," Sirius argued. "I got to fight giants–they were actually windmills, but still–and thieves, and I got to prance around the countryside with Sancho Panza–who was, for some strange reason, Peter–and I even sang 'The Impossible Dream' at some point to a bunch of Red Caps, who seemed to enjoy it. Also, I got to flirt around with the ladies–well, prostitutes, but whatever! Who could say that dream was bad?"

"Not this again!" James groaned. "I thought you had outgrown your _Man of La Mancha _obsession."

"Yeah I have!" exclaimed Sirius. "But I still think Don Quixote and Sancho Panza are cool, and the musical is pretty decent. I can't help it that Muggles are so creative."

"Wait a minute," Ron realized, a strange expression on his countenance. "I think I know who he is. Isn't that that mad Muggle guy who thought he was a knight and fell in love with a prostitute?"

Everyone stared at him.

"What?" asked Ron, a little defensive. "My dad's a fanatic about Muggle stuff."

"All right, back to my dream," said Sirius a little impatiently, apparently deciding to ignore Ron's remark. "So there I was, surrounded by an army of evil gnomes, ready to kill me–"

"Wait, why would they kill you?" asked Peter, confused.

Sirius thought about it then shrugged. "Eh. Anyway, they were surrounding me when all of a sudden, out pops Snivellus out of nowhere, wearing a pink tutu, pirouetting and singing, 'I'm Feel Pretty'–"

Everyone roared with laughter.

"Great, now it's stuck in my head," said Remus wryly. "I will never look at Snape again without that picture popping into my head. Way to go, Padfoot."

"For once, I can't wait to go to Divination today," sniggered James. "That would actually be a decent lesson."

Unfortunately for James and the others, they wouldn't get a chance to go to Divination that day. Restating what I said a few paragraphs ago, this was not a normal day in the slightest for the Marauders, even though it started out as such what with the discovery of Peter's yellow socks and of Sirius's Don Quixote obsession.

For normality and everything sane and rational flew out the window when there was a knock on the door and there appeared Lily Evans standing there at the threshold.

XXX

For many hormonal teenage girls this might have been a dream come true: seeing five (excluding Peter) exceptionally good-looking boys half-naked, something that most would slit their throats to view. But for the stubborn and headstrong Lily Evans this was torture–especially since two of the 

half-naked men/boys in question was the bane of her existence (and future husband) and her future son. Needless to say, Lily covered her eyes quickly with her hands, her face already as red as her hair, as the boys quickly covered themselves as best as they could, shocked at this rare phenomenon.

"Oh, um, sorry!" Lily's face was a strawberry.

"Evans, you're such a prude," Sirius complained lightly, rolling his eyes. He was the only one who was relaxed, the only one not dying of mortification.

"Shut up, Sirius. Only you are used to this sort of thing," Remus said, annoyed and embarrassed.

Sirius, rogue as he is, did not even bother to deny it, but smirked.

"Oh my…that is just…" Harry was mortified by the thought of his godfather…it was appalling to even think of it.

"Unfortunately, he's always been like that, Harry." Lily was no longer red from embarrassment, and her tone was a cool one. "Flirting outrageously and seducing poor innocent girls…"

"And yet, I've never, in my life, had had to sneak into the girls' dormitory," Sirius proclaimed. "Think on _that_."

"Sirius, stop it," James complained. "My son is turning green."

"Alright, alright! Wouldn't want my future godson to be sick," grumbled Sirius.

"Anyway, what brings you here, Lily?" asked Remus politely, always and forevermore the sane and reasonable one.

At this, Lily's expression turned into a grim and worried one. She actually bit her lip.

"It's Natalie," she said somberly. "She's…well, missing."

Everyone looked at Lily, their faces blank and confused.

"Missing?" James was the first one to speak. "Missing how?"

"Well." Lily began slowly, as though weighing her words carefully. "You know how Natalie sometimes likes to go out at night sometimes and wander about in the grounds? It became a kind of habit for her over the years and sometimes we've fights over it…but anyway, when I heard her get up from her bed early this morning and when I woke up again, her bed was empty."

"Maybe she decided to roam the grounds some more," Remus suggested, trying to be optimistic.

"I guess…" But Lily didn't sound so confident. "It's just that she's never done this before, even when she's in a steaming mood. She always returns before either Alice or I notice her missing. And it has been two hours already."

The atmosphere suddenly changed perceptibly at Lily's words.

"Perhaps this is a first?" Sirius offered, but this time there was no trace of mockery or jest in his voice or countenance. In fact, he was even frowning, his handsome forehead creasing, a phenomenon in its own right. "Who knows? She could be at breakfast."

Lily must have sensed this seriousness in Sirius for she didn't reprimand him at all. "That's just it. I checked, and she wasn't there."

There was a pregnant pause. Harry was starting to feel uneasy now, a feeling not unfamiliar to him creeping up in his chest. James was worried about his cousin fate, Remus was confused and alarmed by this phenomenon, and Peter looked as nervous as usual. Sirius, although the least worried, was still frowning. Where could Lady Disdain be?

"What about Tanya?" Everyone stared at Peter, who had spoken tentatively with a squeak. "She probably knows where Natalie is."

"That's true, Peter." Lily brightened up at this suggestion. "I didn't think to ask Tanya–and who knows? She probably knows where Natalie is and we're probably just getting worked up over nothing."

The atmosphere became relaxed and slightly hopeful.

"Yeah, it's probably nothing," said Remus, sounding very much relieved.

They all went down to the Gryffindor common room, which was empty except for a few early risers. Hermione and Alice were there, waiting for them.

"What took you so long?" Hermione pounced on Lily, but Lily shook her head.

"You don't want to know," she muttered and then raised her voice a bit. "Have you checked with Tanya yet?"

"Did you say Tanya?" A sixth-year girl who was passing by overheard their conversation.

"Yes, are you her roommate?" asked Alice.

"Yes, but…are you friends of her?" the girl asked hesitantly.

Everyone nodded their assent, and Sirius muttered, "Well, in a way yes…"

"It's because I've haven't seen her," the girl confessed. "She wasn't in our dormitory by the time I woke up. Have you seen her by any chance?"

If they had been shocked before, the disappearance of Natalie was nothing compared to Tanya's, who didn't have a reason for a nightly promenade around the castle.

"Um, no," Lily stammered, almost tripping over the words. "We haven't seen her at all this morning. Sorry."

"Oh. Well then, I guess I'd better go." Embarrassed, the girl turned and went out of the common room, leaving a silence in her wake.

Natalie and Tanya were not at breakfast. Nor were they in Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, or even Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was as though they disappeared off the face of the earth. The Marauders and company's anxiety increased expeditiously with every class. By lunch speculation was high and there was talk about resorting to drastic measures–namely, Dumbledore.

"Do you think that their disappearances are related to each other?" Sirius asked. "You know–cat fight?"

"Even if that was true, Padfoot, that wouldn't be reason enough to skip half a day of classes," James replied wisely, showing that he does indeed have an IQ greater than 70. "Besides, Natalie is not the fighting time and I'm sure Tanya isn't either."

Sirius, however, looked as though he could beg to differ, keeping in mind his violent verbal skirmishes with Natalie in the past.

"What if Natalie and Tanya are not in the castle?" asked Hermione nervously. "What if something happened to them?"

They were silent, as though the possibility of something drastic happening to them was too unspeakable to verbally acknowledge.

"Right then," Remus finally said, breaking the silence. "I guess we have no choice but to visit Dumbledore in the evening if they don't appear."

"Um…excuse me?" A mousy, scared-looking first year joined their table, looking very much intimidated by the large group of seventh-years. "I have a scroll here for Harry Peterson…"

"Thanks," muttered Harry, accepting the scroll as the first year scurried away. "It's from Dumbledore," he said, surprised. "He wants me, Ron, and Hermione to meet him in his office now."

"Wonder what he could want with us?" asked Ron, puzzled.

"Do you think that maybe he found a way to–?" Hermione stopped abruptly at seeing the shocked faces of the Marauders and co.

Harry stared down, suddenly feeling a bit queasy. What if Hermione was right and Dumbledore had found a way to send them back to their time? He didn't feel ready to part the company of his parents and their friends, much less so what with the inexplicable disappearances of Natalie and Tanya. Harry looked at James and Lily, whose expressions were unsure. Could this be the last time he ever saw his parents ever again?

XXX

Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed to Dumbledore's office alone. Although the others had suggested coming along with them–just in case their suspicions were correct–, it felt best to follow Dumbledore's instructions for the time being. They arrived in front of the stone gargoyle entrance.

"What did Dumbledore say was the password?" asked Ron.

"Time travel," Harry answered and the gargoyle stepped aside. The trio climbed the revolving staircase and Harry knocked on the door, and hearing Dumbledore's soft, "Come in", entered.

The headmaster's office was the same as the last time the trio were here, but instead of Dumbledore sitting serenely behind his desk, he was standing up, with his Pensieve on his desk, touching the tip of his wand to his temple and withdrawing the silver streams of the memories and letting it fall gently into the silvery depths of the Pensieve.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger," he greeted, finally looking up. "Sit down, sit down. I have good news and sad news to tell you."

Indeed, there was an air of excitement permeating around Dumbledore's normally serene aura. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down in their usual spots, still looking nervous and expectant. Dumbledore finished adding the last memory to the Pensieve before sitting down as well. Harry chanced a glance at the Pensive, but it was merely a whirl of color.

"What is it, sir?" asked Harry.

"I have found out why you three were sent back in time," Dumbledore revealed triumphantly.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, confused.

"But sir, you know that already," Harry pointed out. "It was that silver Time Turner."

"Yes, I know that, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Forgive me for confusing you–I meant that I had _found _the reason why you were sent back in time. Namely, the silver Time Turner."

Ron and Hermione gasped and Harry felt a sudden surge of excitement.

"You found it? Where?" Ron asked eagerly.

Dumbledore smiled. "Patience, Mr. Weasley. I shall tell you presently of my discovery.

"When you first told me about the silver Time Turner, the description of such a device sounded familiar to me, though at the time I couldn't pinpoint where I have heard it before. Old age has its weaknesses, it seems.

"It wasn't until recently, while I was laboriously searching my office for a book, that I had found it. You see, the silver Time Turner is mine."

Harry was shocked. Dumbledore had the silver Time Turner all along in his office? He looked at Ron and Hermione and saw that they too looked dazed.

"So you had it all along?" Ron looked staggered. "Weird."

"But how come it took you so long to remember?" asked Hermione, confused. "Surely you'd know if you had such a…rare Time Turner?"

"Very wise, Miss Granger," appraised Dumbledore, and Hermione blushed. "That was the first thing I asked myself and presently I came to the conclusion that the Time Turner had been a gift of some sort and that I had been Obliviated by the person who gave it to me."

"_What?" _Harry, Ron, Hermione exclaimed in unison.

"Yes indeed." Dumbledore was very serene considering the fact that he had just discovered that he had been Obliviated. "Not to worry, for when I laid eyes on the Time Turner, the memory was restored to me, though not completely."

"Not completely?" Harry repeated.

"Although I could remember most of the conversation, there are a few gaping holes, and the face of the benefactor is blurry to me still–I am fairly sure he or she was concentrating mostly on me not remembering their face than the actual gift. I cannot remember even the gender of the person. However, I had one more important clue about the identity of this mysterious person."

Dumbledore rose and went to the cabinet behind his desk, opening it. Inside was the silver Time Turner, bigger than Harry had remembered, gleaming brightly. Dumbledore picked up the Time 

Turner gently, putting it on his desk next to his Pensieve. Observing it more closely, Harry saw that not only the metal was silver, but that the sand was as well. It was truly an exquisite piece.

"When I observed the Time Turner more closely," Dumbledore continued, sitting down, "I made it a point to observe its craftsmanship. Thus, I came to the conclusion that this was not an actual Time Turner."

There was dead silence in the office.

"What do mean, that this isn't a Time Turner?" asked Hermione, puzzled and a mite frustrated. "It made us come here, didn't it? What else could it be?"

Harry couldn't help but agree. This, although two times bigger than the average Time Turner and silver, was most definitely a Time Turner, if somewhat eccentric.

"Although this device achieves the same purpose as a Time Turner," Dumbledore explained, "it is different. Would a regular Time Turner travel you three back in time for twenty years? I think not. Besides, this was not wizard-made."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances again, mystified and yet intrigued by the mystery.

"Then, what is it?" Ron asked. "What built it?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, a mite unsure. Then he asked, "Have you three ever heard about Sylicans?"

"Syli-what?" Ron's bewildered comment was answer enough. He turned to Harry, who shrugged, as clueless as Ron. Then, as they always do in cases in which they don't know something, they turned to Hermione. She did not answer right away–in fact, she frowned in concentration, frustration written in her features.

"Oh…I know this, I know this…Sylicans, Sylicans…" she muttered.

"You most likely have heard of them in…say, History of Magic?" Dumbledore suggested.

This seemed to be the magic word. Hermione let out a loud "_Oh!_" and her face became suddenly animated.

"As Miss Granger had figured out," Dumbledore continued, "Sylicans are a magical civilization almost to the point of extinction. Some say that Sylicans were the first wizards, though many of our kind declare otherwise. Very few wizards know of their existence, since their numbers are few and they prefer to keep to themselves."

"Why are they almost extinct?" Harry asked, curious.

"When I say extinct, Mr. Potter, I meant that there are very few pure Sylicans left," Dumbledore replied. "Most Sylican blood has been mixed with wizards or even Muggles, and most Sylican genes are recessive."

"How are they different from wizards?" asked Ron, but Hermione answered before Dumbledore could.

"They have greater magical acuity," she answered. "Their magical instinct gets developed so early in their lives. By the age of eight a Sylican would already be consciously doing wandless magic, whereas with wizards it's very difficult to reach that point! And they've been persecuted in the past as well, just because they were…well, different from wizards."

"Different how?" Harry asked.

"They have a very different culture than wizards, and also their own language," Hermione answered. "Their society was really well organized. I guess it was jealousy and even the long-standing 'Which came first, Sylicans or wizards?' debate. Also they were blamed for loads of stuff… and so there were a few wars between them and tons of Sylicans got killed…but that was ages ago. Right now they've secluded themselves so thoroughly that few wizards know about their existence. I happen to know about them only by reading in this really old book about wizarding history, and even so the entry was tiny…"

"And also a cause for Sylican ambiguity is because of Hogwarts' reluctance to teach them about them," Dumbledore added. "The persecution of Sylicans is not a very pretty chapter in wizarding history and the prejudice is still alive today, though at less numbers. The subject has been banned for decades, and I would've brought the subject back if it was covered in O.W.L or N.E.W.T exams–and, of course, it hasn't, so there was no necessity in covering Sylican civilization.

"In any case, this Time Turner is most definitely of Sylican craft," he said, gesturing towards the gleaming device. "And it is also exponentially more powerful, therefore allowing you three to travel back in time twenty years. Sylicans are the only ones who have ever truly mastered the mystery of time. In fact, this device is not called a Time Turner, but a Sylican equivalent of the word…I believe it is called a _Tempù arem dei Deo_, or God's Time Sand. Or something similar, at least. Therefore, we can reasonably conclude that my mysterious visitor was in fact a Sylican, or perhaps a wizard who had gotten it through honest or dishonest means."

Dumbledore paused and then said, "But no matter. This discovery will most help me in my endeavor to bring you three back to your own time. Now that I know of this device's origins, I can figure out how it works. It will take some more time, perhaps two months more before you three will be allowed to go home. Is that all right with you?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all nodded. Harry was relieved that he wouldn't get to part with his parents so soon, though he felt sad that his stay was to be determined by a length of time. Still, it wasn't as though he thought that he was going to stay forever in this time. They had to leave _someday_.

"Good," Harry said, "Because we cannot leave now."

"Oh?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

"We were going to your office to tell you earlier, but you beat us to it," said Ron. "You see, Natalie and Tanya have gone missing."

"They have?" Dumbledore was immediately all business. "Tell me everything."

And so they proceeded to tell Dumbledore about this morning's events, while Dumbledore listened quietly, not interrupting. When they finished, Dumbledore stood up.

"This seems serious," he said, worry etched in his ancient face. "It seems that Natalie Potter and Tanya Bryanston have been kidnapped."

"By whom?" Harry asked, alarmed. "It can't be Voldemort–how could he get past the barriers and security?"

"Plus, you cannot Apparate or Disapparate in Hogwarts grounds," Hermione pointed out.

"You are all quite right," said Dumbledore grimly. "But perhaps it isn't Voldemort who is behind this."

It took a few seconds for the trio to comprehend what Dumbledore was saying.

"You mean…Maira?" whispered Hermione, shocked.

"But that can't be," protested Harry vehemently. "Maira's a witch, she couldn't get pass the wards and–"

He broke off at the look Dumbledore gave him. It was a shrewd, calculating look that seemed to convey a message of some sort. All of a sudden Harry understood.

"You mean…" Harry trailed off. He stared significantly at Dumbledore, who sighed heavily.

"Maira Villareal and her two siblings were the first students I ever taught that were of Sylican blood," he began, suddenly looking like an old man again. "Their father was a wizard and their mother was a Sylican. They showed signs of magical promise from early infancy and were naturally accepted into Hogwarts. But still, Professor Armando Dippet was hesitant in letting three Sylican children learn wizards' magic. I persuaded him otherwise, believing that anyone with magical talent should be accepted at Hogwarts. Besides, I had taught their father during his years at Hogwarts as well. Maira entered school the same year as Tom Riddle. Two very grave mistakes, in a single year." He sighed again. "I'm not as infallible as some people like to think."

"But still reliable," Harry disagreed. He understood now, and by the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces, they understood as well. Of course. This explained everything that happened in Hogsmeade. Maira and Tom obviously had known each other during their years at Hogwarts. Something that had been inferred, but never confirmed…

"So because Maira is half Sylican, she would be able to get through the wards?" Hermione was as sharp as ever, barely missing a step.

"Correction," said Dumbledore. "It's because Maira's half _witch _that makes it almost impossible to get through the wards. Sylican magic can overpower the wards–but only if you're pure Sylican. Thus, Maira couldn't get through without experiencing terrible pain…so she must've had help. Henchmen to do the deed."

"And Natalie and Tanya had been taking a walk around the grounds last night…" Hermione broke off, horrified.

Harry's blood ran cold. It was very likely, even achievable, that Maira's _help _had gotten to Natalie and Tanya, who were unsuspecting. That surely must've happened.

"So what do we–" Harry began, but he was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

"Come in," said Dumbledore, calm as always, and to Harry, Ron, and Hermione's surprise, the Marauders and Lily and Alice trudged into the office, with James and Sirius dragging Peter. Harry's heart leapt to his throat. Could it be that they found out–?

"Professor, Peter saw something that might help with discovering the reason for Natalie and Tanya's disappearances," James explained, somber for once. "He didn't mention it because he thought that it wasn't important."

Peter looked around edgily, nervously, looking like a cornered rat, and Harry had to restrain himself from _not _strangling him.

"Please tell me what you saw, Peter." Dumbledore's voice was soft, but compelling nevertheless.

It was clear that Peter regretted never saying anything at all. He shuffled around uncomfortably before muttering, "I didn't exactly _see _something. I just heard…voices."

"Voices?" Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed. "Male or female?"

"Male," muttered Peter, shifting in his seat restlessly. "Three voices. But I didn't pay much attention of what was said. I knew that they weren't students so I…left," he admitted in a low tone.

Harry swallowed his revulsion, hiding it deep into the very marrow of his bones. Not only a coward, but also concealing why he was in the grounds in the first place. But he didn't let himself think that. Instead he forced himself to keep calm, to keep his impassive façade.

"I…I didn't understand much of what was being said," Peter timidly confessed. "Sometimes they'd speak English but then they'd switch to this other language. It made things very confusing."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances while Dumbledore's face tightened perceptibly. The others, however, were confused.

"What does this mean, Professor?" asked Remus, his eyes intent on Dumbledore's face.

Dumbledore looked at each and every one of them, assessing and appraising them. Finally he sighed.

"Will one of you please close the door? It will take a bit to explain…"

XXX

"So let me get this straight," said Sirius slowly, after Dumbledore finished explaining. "You're saying that Maira Villareal–a mad murderess after Natalie's blood who also happens to be a Syli-whatever-it-is–had kidnapped Natalie and Tanya via her henchmen, whom Peter had happened to overhear?"

"Er, yeah, that's pretty much it." Harry spoke after a pause.

"Alright, I think I got it," said Sirius, though he was still frowning in a thoughtful way. "The only question I have is this: Why the hell are we standing here _talking _when we could bloody well rescue them?"

There were murmurs of assent from the group except from Peter, who looked nervous and apprehensive at the very thought.

"That is out of the question, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said calmly, though with a hint of steel in his tone. "I would not risk students' lives–your lives–for this. This matter will be decided by the Ministry and the Sylican judiciary equivalent."

"But Natalie and Tanya are our friends," argued Lily boldly.

"We can't just sit here and do _nothing_," James said, frustrated.

"Natalie and Tanya will be found," Dumbledore assured grimly. "One way or another. Besides, you don't know where to look, have absolutely no idea where Maira is holding Natalie and Tanya. You will only be–forgive me–a hindrance rather than a help."

"No we wouldn't!" Sirius exclaimed indignantly.

"I think we should at least help." Even Remus was offering, his quiet voice determined.

"Guys, I think Dumbledore's right." Everyone turned to gape in utter astonishment at Harry, who had spoken. His face was calm and decided.

"Harry?" Ron looked at him as though he had given leave of his senses.

"Think about it, Ron. What can we do? I don't like it either, but I think we should step back and let Dumbledore handle this." Harry stood up, looking straight into Dumbledore's eyes and ignoring the other's incredulous stares. "But if you change your mind about letting us help…you'll tell us, right?"

For a brief moment Harry and Dumbledore maintained eye-contact, Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes boring into Harry's emerald ones. Everyone in the room held their breath, watching the nonverbal exchange. Finally Dumbledore broke eye-contact.

"Perhaps," he allowed. "But for this time, I'm afraid you will have to part this office unsatisfied."

It was a clear dismissal. Everyone trudged out of Dumbledore's office reluctantly. James, Lily, Alice and Sirius looked mutinous, and Remus was biting his lip. Ron and Hermione were still staring at Harry and Peter merely looked uncomfortable. They went past the gargoyle and into the empty hallway when all of a sudden Harry turned to them.

"So," he said. "What will be our plan?"

Everyone stared at them blankly for a second. Then James and Sirius cracked identical grins.

"If ever I doubted that you were my son, Harry…" James was shaking his head fondly, beaming.

"So you are not abandoning Natalie and Tanya?" asked Lily in relief and even a hint of…pride?

"Me?" Harry shook his head. "Nah. I just took advantage of the fact that Dumbledore doesn't know me–or at least, that this Dumbledore doesn't. He wouldn't know that I have a bit of a saving-people thing."

"Good," Ron said, relieved. "For a second there I thought you went a bit loony there, mate."

"So, my dear Prongslet," Sirius said in his best formal tone. "What do you propose we should do?"

"As it happens," said Harry, a bit of a mischievous glint in his emerald eyes. "I have a plan…"

* * *

**A/N: Please review if you don't hate me! Even flames are appreciated! **


	16. The Plan

**A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for the late update…though admittedly not as late as the other one –winces-. That was really when I disappeared off the face of the earth. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! It's one of the long ones…**

**And also, thanks for the lovely reviews! You guys are so great…-sniffles-. **

**Disclaimer: Now, if I owned Harry Potter, I would've killed off EVERYONE in the last book. Well, almost everyone. Why? Because I'm evil like that!**

* * *

Chapter 16-The Plan

**(Setting and Time: Unknown)**

It was very dark when Natalie finally regained consciousness. Only a silver little stream of moonlight shone through a small window–too high to reach, and more than likely barred. The slight pounding in her head increased and Natalie groaned. She tried to get up, but weakly lay back down on the cold, hard floor, grimacing at the horrible dank smell of what looked like a cell. Her bones felt heavy, as though made of lead. Everything was quiet except for the occasional dripping of muck from the ceiling, which reverberated loudly in the cell.

Natalie groaned again, only this time there was nothing wrong with her head. She felt an odd mixture of fear, anger, and chagrin, for she could only guess where she was and why she was here. Maira, the ever persistent, seemed to have achieved her goal of kidnapping Natalie. But then…where was Tanya? As though the one in question suddenly read Natalie's thoughts, there came a low groan.

"Ow…where are we?"

Natalie nearly fainted with relief. Although she was sad that Tanya was suffering because of her, she was nevertheless selfishly relieved that she had some company and that Maira didn't do anything to her.

"Tanya?"

"Yeah, it's me." Natalie saw a thin outline in the dark move. "So where are we?"

"Let's move closer to the light," Natalie suggested, and she realized that her voice was unnaturally loud in the cell. She endeavored to keep it low.

Tanya's pale face was lit by the moonlight, making her look eerily ethereal.

"So where are we?"

"I'm not sure, but I think that Maira must've kidnapped us…"

"Who?"

"Oh, that's right," Natalie realized. "I never did tell you about Maira, did I? Well, she's a murderess who's after my blood. She's tried all my life to kill me, but as of yet she hasn't succeed."

"_What_?" Tanya now looked positively alarmed.

Natalie sighed, running her hand through her hair in a very James-like gesture. "It's a long story, but let's just say that I blame my father for all of this. Anyway, I'm sorry that you had to be involved as well."

"It's not your fault," said Tanya firmly. "You didn't make me take a walk in the grounds."

"In any case," said Natalie gloomily. "We're in Maira's power now." And that fact did nothing to improve her spirits.

"But are you sure it's Maira? I mean–" But Tanya froze on her spot, as did Natalie, for they heard a brief scuffling sound in the darkness. They listened anxiously, not daring even to breathe. Suddenly, there was a loud, demanding whisper.

"Quie sta qui?"

Natalie and Tanya jumped in alarm, involuntarily moving closer together. A shadow moved, tall and frightening. The voice spoke again in that same, queer language, though more insistent.

"Quie sta? Hablais Sylicani? Contésti!"

The voice did not rise in volume, but the tone was forceful enough to incite a response.

"Who's there?" Natalie managed to ask bravely.

There was a pause. And then–

"Oh, I don't believe this…"

The shadow approached, and the owner of the voice stood directly under the pool of light. To Natalie and Tanya's surprise and relief, it was a girl. She had unkempt jet black hair and sharp (even in this light) sapphire eyes that seemed to pierce through Natalie and Tanya. She looked a few years older than Natalie and Tanya, and certainly the more disheveled of the two. Her face was pale and her cheeks sunken, though she did have the markings of a once-pretty face.

"Who are you two?" the girl asked, frowning in confusion. There was absolutely no accent in her voice, though Natalie and Tanya had heard her speak in another language.

"I'm Natalie," said Natalie, feeling awkward. "And this is Tanya. What's your name?"

The girl gave Natalie and Tanya that piercing look again. "Crystalline," she finally offered, with no last name. "But nobody calls me that unless they have a death wish. It's Crystal to everyone. So," she added in a conversational tone, as though they were casually socializing and not prisoners in a damp cell, "it's rather obvious that you two were captured as well…but by whom?"

"Um, we don't really know," Tanya confessed. "I think we were knocked out."

"I think that it was those two idiots," Crystal mused. "I like to call them Tweedledee and Tweedledum…though Dumb and Dumber sound good as well. I think I overheard Maira sending them on a special mission on something…wait a minute," she suddenly said, turning toward Natalie. "You're that Potter girl, right?"

"Yeah," said Natalie, sounding surprised. "How do you know?"

"Maira has had you on her top ten people to murder for quite some time," said Crystal dryly. "What did you do, poke her in the eye or something?"

Natalie and Tanya couldn't help but chuckle over that. "Well, no," Natalie admitted. "It's more of what my stupid father did…"

"Say no more," interrupted Crystal. "I know exactly what you are getting at."

Crystal sat down, crossing her legs together in Indian style. "So if Maira was only after you, why did she also capture Tanya as well?" She looked at Tanya, who looked puzzled.

"I don't know," said Tanya frankly. "I was with Natalie at the time. Perhaps she thought that she would take me so there wouldn't be any witnesses?"

"Hmm, that doesn't sound like Maira," Crystal mused, and then her expression turned dark. "And believe me, I know Maira."

"So you have your history with Maira as well?" Natalie asked sympathetically.

"Something like that," Crystal replied shortly, stiffly. Natalie and Tanya did not press for more, although curious. Finally, Crystal gave a low whistle.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Maira would be interested in a couple of witches. I didn't think she associated much with wizards, period."

"Wizards?" Tanya asked, confused by the term. "But why shouldn't she? Isn't she a witch?"

Crystal raised her eyebrows. "You honestly don't know? Oh _Dio_, what are teaching at that school of yours?"

Natalie and Tanya looked incomprehensively at Crystal. She sighed.

"Well, I'd rather I show you. Come closer."

Natalie and Tanya hesitated, exchanging glances, before inching closer.

"Watch carefully." Crystal closed her eyes for a brief second, and Natalie and Tanya exchanged another puzzled look. Then she opened her eyes and Natalie and Tanya gasped in shock. For in Crystal's sapphire eyes was a bright light, but it wasn't reflected by the moonlight. In fact, the tiny pinpricks of light were gold, and seemed to originate from within Crystal herself.

"How…how did you do that?" asked Natalie, amazed.

Crystal sighed, and then blinked. The golden pinpricks were gone.

"I guess I have to tell you everything, don't I?"

* * *

**(Back at Hogwarts)**

There was dead silence in the boys' dormitory after Harry finished explaining the details of his prior mentioned plan. Harry felt a bit nervous at the reception his plan received. He knew it was nothing short of madness, lunacy, but he really could not see another option and really…this silence was unnerving!

The seconds lengthened and deepened, until Remus, who looked a little hesitant, broke it.

"Er…not to be rue or anything, Harry, but…are you alright?" There was actual concern in his tone. Harry groaned.

"Oh, c'mon! It's not as ridiculous as it sounds like," Harry argued. "Ron, Hermione, and I did stuff like this in our time. Right, guys?"

But even Ron and Hermione seemed reluctant.

"Yeah, mate, but we've never sneaked into Dumbledore's office before," Ron pointed out reasonably.

"Besides, there is no guarantee that we'll get the answers we seek there," Hermione said in her no-nonsense, logical voice. "What if we find nothing there? Then what?"

"Hey, hey." Everyone turned towards Sirius. "I like it! I say we do it anyway, and to hell with the consequences!"

"All you want to do is to sneak into Dumbledore's office and look through his stuff," Lily said exasperatedly. "I agree with Remus, this plan sounds half-baked."

"Whoa, whoa, who says we haven't sneaked into Dumbledore's office?" cried James, affronted.

"You mean you have?" asked Harry, hope rising in his chest.

Sirius shrugged casually. "Yeah, a couple of times for pranks. There were loads of thingamabobs and thingamajigs. Very ho-hum." But the glint in his silver-grey eyes told otherwise.

"But how?" asked Hermione curiously. "There's bound to be enchantments and spells for intruders, surely."

"There are," Remus replied in a grumbling tone. "But those two–" He pointed at James and Sirius, who had I'm-innocent looks on their faces. "–made me research the spells."

"So? I was the one who came up the plan," Sirius pointed out, "and James was the one who broke the enchantments. We all did our part!"

"What about Peter?" Lily pointed out.

Sirius shrugged. "Eh. Encouraged us, I guess."

"So you mean to say that all we have to do is break the enchantments made by Dumbledore, roughly the most powerful wizard of all time, and then is just swift sailing from there on out?" Hermione asked sarcastically, folding her arms to her chest, and yet looking somehow impressed by the Marauders' obvious talents.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," Sirius said casually, somehow missing the sarcasm.

"So, all in favor of sneaking into Dumbledore's office and uncovering the whereabouts of Maira's hideout say aye!" Harry addressed the group at large.

"Aye!" yelled James, Sirius, Ron, and Peter (surprisingly). Remus sighed, and said reluctantly, albeit a bit too late, "Aye."

Lily, Alice, and Hermione sighed, and exchanged significant glances that seemed to say "_Boys_."

* * *

**(Setting and Time: Still Unknown)**

When Crystal finished talking, the whole cell was silent once more except for the constant dripping. Natalie and Tanya were both dumbfounded.

"Whoa," Natalie breathed, shocked and overwhelmed.

"It _is_ a lot of information for a person to take in all at once," Crystal said indifferently, stretching, cool as a cucumber.

"But you still haven't explained your history with Maira," Tanya pointed out.

"Oh, that." Crystal smiled darkly. "Well, it's not really difficult to explain. She just slaughtered my family–most recently my father–and I'm next, that's all. Don't look at me like that! I don't need your pity."

For Natalie and Tanya were looking at Crystal with something akin to sympathy.

"You must really hate her, then," remarked Tanya quietly.

"Oh I do." Crystal's voice was low and cold. "I just don't show it much. You can't possibly imagine how it pained me to not attack Maira the second I saw her."

"Why didn't you then?" Natalie asked roughly. Her own experiences with Maira left her no room for compassion.

Crystal gave them that piercing look again. "I guess I can trust you two, can I? After all, one of you has it as well."

"What are you talking about?" asked Natalie, frowning in confusion.

Crystal hesitated, then said, throwing all caution to the wind, "Ah, what the heck. I'm from the future, all right?"

Whatever Natalie and Tanya were expecting, it certainly wasn't this. They stared at Crystal shocked.

"You too?" Tanya blurted out. Natalie shot her a look, but Crystal immediately grasped the meaning.

"So you have met people who are from the future?" asked Crystal, curious and pensive. "I'm not the only one, then…"

"Why do you tell us this?" asked Natalie. "I mean, I know you trust us, but surely it would disrupt the timeline or something?"

Crystal shrugged nonchalantly. "Simple," she said. "Because Tanya's from the future as well."

"_What_?" Natalie glanced at Tanya, who groaned and looked chagrined at her secret coming out. Crystal, instead of looking regretful about her slip, looked amused.

"You didn't tell her?" she asked Tanya. "Well, I wouldn't either if I hadn't known that you were from the future."

"How did you know?" asked Tanya. Crystal grimaced.

"I can see that God-awful time sand clinging to you. It's a devil to remove, and believe me I've tried."

"Time sand?"

Crystal had an odd look on her face. "Oh, that's right, wizards can't see it. Here, give me your arm and I'll show you."

Tanya extended her arm. Crystal put her hand near the crease of her elbow and then made a very fast, sweeping motion down the length of Tanya's arm. As soon as she did that, tiny specks of what looked like silver dust appeared in the air, bright and glowing before settling down and disappearing.

"Wow," Natalie murmured. "Pretty."

"Annoying, though," Crystal said, grimacing again as she let go of Tanya's hand. "It doesn't really hurt you, but it's so damn uncomfortable." She got up, stretching her limbs, and then sat back down. "It's how Maira managed to know that I was from the future and locked me in here. She's been trying to get me to reveal who I am for weeks, without success."

"How?" asked Natalie cautiously, wondering whether she really wanted to know. Crystal told her anyway.

"Torture," she said lightly. "Hey–don't look like that! It wasn't really _that _bad." At the sight of Natalie and Tanya's faces, rigid with disbelief, she backtracked. "All right, it was pretty bad, but seriously, I'm used to worse!"

The look on Natalie and Tanya's faces stated clearly that they did not believe her. Crystal gave an exasperated sigh.

"All right, believe what you want to believe, but are we going to start brainstorming ways to escape this hellhole or not?"

"That's a thought," Natalie said dryly. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Hilarious," Crystal said sardonically. "Anyway, are you with me or no?"

"Of course we are!" exclaimed Tanya. "But how can we escape if we don't know where we are?"

Crystal was silent for so long that Natalie and Tanya glanced at each other, confused. Then Crystal slowly stood up and moved to the stone wall of the cell. She pressed her palm against the cool stone and then pressed her ear against it as well. She then removed it, frowning thoughtfully.

"This seems familiar to me in a way," Crystal muttered, half to herself and half to Natalie and Tanya. "And yet I can safely say that I haven't seen or been here in this place before."

"Then how is it familiar?" Natalie asked cautiously.

"It just feels that way," Crystal replied, her brows furrowing. "Something about the aura of this place…I think perhaps I've been here before and I just don't remember." She looked around. "Yep, that must be it."

"But you come from the future," Natalie pointed out. "And this place looks…old. Wouldn't it be destroyed already in your time?"

"You'd be surprised," was all Crystal had to say. She turned her attention towards the wall again, pressing her ear against it once more. Her hand was flat against wall, moving around at different places on the wall, pausing every so often. Natalie and Tanya watched her silently, not daring to speak lest they should break her concentration.

Finally, Crystal let out a triumphant yell, getting to her feet. "I've found it!"

"Found what?" asked Tanya.

"A way out," Crystal explained. "Behind this piece of wall here is a hidden door. There's always at least one, if you know where to look. However, the trouble is that we don't know if it's a trick one or a genuine one."

"What's the difference?" Natalie had to ask.

"Well, a trick one is where you open it, and immediately you get attacked by beast lurking behind," Crystal answered matter-of-factly while Natalie and Tanya grimaced. "Yeah, one of Maira's tricks. A genuine one is one that will guarantee that we'll escape without encountering some spells or beasts and stuff."

"Alright then," said Natalie. "So how will we know what it is?"

"Blasting it open," replied Crystal. "Have you each a wand?"

Natalie and Tanya looked into the pockets of their pajamas, but found that they were empty.

"Damn," Natalie cursed. "They got our wands."

Crystal frowned at this. "We'll get them back later. Ah well, guess that plan's foiled…"

She sat down on the cold floor, crossing her legs and resting her cheek on the palm of her hand. Natalie and Tanya stared at her in bewilderment.

"But couldn't you use your own powers to get out?" Natalie pointed out.

"I would," Crystal said bitterly, frustration laced in her tone. "But I can't, Maira has a barrier that prevents me from using them at all." She waved her hand in a careless gesture.

"Wait, what was that?"

Crystal looked at Natalie, confused. "What was what?"

Natalie blinked, and then shook her head. "Nothing," she answered. But she could've sworn, just a few seconds ago, that Natalie had seen a spark shoot out from Crystal's index finger.

* * *

**(Setting: Hogwarts, 6:15 p.m.)**

"Everything all set? Are the spells broken?"

"Yes, James took care of it."

"Good. Sirius, remember what you have to do."

"Don't remind me…"

"Just pretend that you're on your sugar overload and everything will be fine."

Sirius muttered something dark under his breath. James rolled his eyes at his best friend. The Marauders and company were assembled a couple of feet away from where the gargoyle leading to Dumbledore's office was located. Everyone was looking at Sirius significantly.

"Come on, Padfoot, you can do it," Remus encouraged.

"Why couldn't I get drunk first?" Sirius grumbled. "Then it would make things a hell of a lot easier."

"If you can do it while on your sugar load, then you can do it now," said Harry dryly. "Besides, isn't this the kind of stuff you usually do?"

Sirius stared at Harry. "Yes, Prongslet, the kind of stuff I do while _hyper _or _crazy_," he said, emphasizing those words out. In the end, he sighed resignedly. "Alright, alright, I'll do it."

"Good luck," said Hermione, and everyone nodded. Sirius sighed, then headed down the hallway, facing the gargoyle. He took a deep breath.

"Cockroach Cluster," Sirius said calmly, and the gargoyle stepped aside. He cast one glare at his so-called friends hiding in the corner. They reciprocated the look with innocent one. Sirius sighed again, and then sprang to action.

* * *

**(Setting: Dumbledore's Office)**

It was yet another normal day for Albus Dumbledore. Well, as normal as it could be when one had to deal with the Ministry on informing them of the disappearances of Natalie Potter and Tanya Bryanston. The Ministry wasn't known for having such brilliant minds, and telling them things of a sensitive nature was wearing on Dumbledore. Thankfully the rest of the day seemed calm enough and Dumbledore managed to have a little bit more peace than usual.

That is, until he heard the singing.

At first, Dumbledore didn't think of it as singing. In fact, he was of a mind to search for Mr. Filch, for someone must surely be torturing Mrs. Norris. After a few seconds of listening, however, he distinguished some words and finally concluded that it wasn't someone torturing a cat, but someone 

singing. But oh, what awful singing it was! As Dumbledore listened closely, he found that he could distinguish the words. The song went along these lines:

_I have often walked down this street before  
But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before  
All at once am I several stories high,  
Knowing I'm on the street where you live._

_Are there lilac trees in the heart of town?  
Can you hear a lark in any other part of town?  
Does enchantment pour out of every door?  
No, it's just on the street where you live!_

Dumbledore was frankly shocked. He vaguely knew of this song, and he knew that it was a good song. The treatment it received, being sung by such a coarse voice…it was cruel. As a connoisseur of good music, Dumbledore decided to investigate and seek out the source. He got up and went to the door.

_And oh, that towering feeling,  
Just to know somehow you are near  
The overpowering feeling  
That any second you may suddenly appear!_

"Mr. Black?" Dumbledore was surprised to see the seventh-year prankster riding on the stairway, singing as loud as he possibly could. Sirius stopped singing at the sight of Dumbledore.

"Why, top o' the evenin' to ya, gov'na!" Sirius greeted in a Cockney accent.

"Mr. Black, might I ask why you are here?" Dumbledore asked, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "And riding on the revolving stairway, no less?"

"Well, sir," Sirius said flippantly, back to his normal accent. "I decided to serenade you, seeing as you look a bit under the weather, sir. And I thought I'd sing this song–it's most fitting, is it not?"

The others hiding in the corner had to cover their mouths to keep from bursting out laughing. Dumbledore, luckily, did not notice.

"But how do you know this song?" asked Dumbledore interestedly. "It's Muggle, is it?"

"Yeah. Kind of rebelled against my parents and listened to loads of Muggle music," Sirius said cheerfully. "I'm mostly into Broadway and all that jazz."

"Really? My favorite is _My Fair Lady_," Dumbledore mused.

"What a coincidence!" Sirius was positively beaming. "I love that musical! That was why I picked that particular song, of course. Do tell me of your favorite part and the songs you like…"

Dumbledore smiled and both of them stepped out onto the corridor, walking as they talked. Now Dumbledore was not stupid–he knew that Mr. Black was up to something, a prank, no doubt, but as he happened to be a wizard with a sense of humor, he decided to humor him.

"Well, I've always liked 'Show Me'…"

They disappeared at the end of the corridor. There was a few seconds' pause, then a whisper:

"Now's our chance."

Harry and the others then–all under the two Invisibility Cloaks, of course–sneaked into Dumbledore's office, closing the door behind them.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah…sorry for the lame/abrupt ending. And sorry again for the sort-of late update. I don't think I disappeared off the face of the earth like last time, though. I feel rather so-so about this chapter. Anyway, how do you think of it? Tell me via reviews! **


	17. Stupid Author's Note!

_Dear Readers,_

_Before you kill/maim me with various torture devices, I just want to say that I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm in the middle of a drought lately (or a serious bout of writer's block, if you prefer) and I found myself unable to write anything, even my other stories. My mind is like an empty well right now, a perfect antithesis of Danni34, who has story ideas every three seconds (well, not really, but you get the idea)._

_For one thing, I can't decide on what to write in the next chapter! Well, I know what to write, but I'm still deciding on how Harry and co. will find out where Maira has Natalie and Tanya tucked away. So until I figure it all out, I am unable to complete the chapter…that and my writer's block mentioned prior in the last paragraph._

_And that's not all. Another reason for my tardiness is not the main one, but it does contribute a bit. As many of you know, "Breaking Dawn" by Stephenie Meyer will come out on August 2, which is just a few measly weeks away. Being the obsessive Twilight fan that I am, I am greedily counting down the days until it comes out, as many of you Twilighters probably are right this second. Yes, Twilight is my weakness, just as it is to most of you that are into such an addictive series._

_This, however, does NOT mean that I am discontinuing this story. I am too stubborn for that and besides, my ideas have not run out yet! I'm loath to write this as I detest author's notes (well, I detest writing them) but it's time for me to accept that I won't be writing this chapter anytime soon. I can be quite tenacious when I want to, but even I have limits._

_So unless some miracle happens that makes me write out of the rut I'm in, I won't be updating for a while. I **will **try to, but I'm sad to say that I can't make any promises. And unfortunately, I'm going on a trip to Colombia on August 4th (yay for me…not) and so even if I wasn't confronted with writer's block I would still be writing this author's note (wow…that's a depressing thought). I will be gone for two weeks, just a week before school begins. On the bright side, however, a trip like this one would be helpful in getting rid of my writer's block–I'll be hopefully bored enough that I would write a bunch and perhaps solve my mentioned dilemma. For your patience and support, however, I will write two chapters (yes, **two **chapters) if you still remember this story. I'm sorry again for this, and I'll be crossing my fingers and hoping that I'll get through that horrible barren wasteland that is writer's block._

_Forget Voldemort and Maira! Forget Heathcliff, the Master, Sesshomaru, Cathy, Rebecca, Darth Vader or any evil fictional character that I've temporarily forgotten! They pale in comparison to the wickedness that is writer's block!_

_Because writer's block is the epitome of pure evil. And that's no hyperbole!_

_Yours, most sincerely,_

_cto10121_

_PS. God, I hate these author's notes…just wanted to say that. And I do want to thank everyone who reviewed. You guys have been absolutely wonderful and I hope you forgive me._


	18. The Flaw in the Plan

****

A/N: Well, that was quick. Hadn't expected to be cured of writer's block so soon. Sorry that I gave you the wrong idea that it would take ions for me to update. But one question…is it me or is this chapter way too flippant?

**Little Annoying Pessimistic Voice In My Head: This chapter is way too flippant.**

**Yes? Of course it is. So sorry in advance. During my writer's block I had decided to resort to humor and I must say that I overdid it a bit. A lot, actually. So sorry. But at least I updated! Actually updated sooner than any of you expected, which makes me feel a bit proud. Even though I quite hate this chapter…really hate it. I've edited it a little bit to downplay the flippancy, but still –sighs-. But anyway, thanks for everyone who reviewed (over two hundred reviews!). I would also like to thank those who reviewed the AN and gave me support that managed (almost single-handedly) to get out of my writer's block. You guys are the best! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot…and Maira, Natalie, Tanya, and Crystal…and that's basically it. Hell, I don't even own the chapter title (look at the chapter titles for Deathly Hallows)! But perhaps Rowling would cut me some slack and give me the rights (hint, hint, wink, wink, nudge, nudge).**

* * *

_**Previously on "Not Another Time Travel Story!" (Because I have a feeling you forgot…)**_

_Dumbledore smiled and both of them stepped out onto the corridor, walking as they talked. Now Dumbledore was not stupid–he knew that Mr. Black was up to something, a prank, no doubt, but as he happened to be a wizard with a sense of humor, he decided to humor him._

"_Well, I've always liked 'Show Me'…"_

_They disappeared at the end of the corridor. There was a few seconds' pause, then a whisper:_

"_Now's our chance."_

_Harry and the others then–all under the two Invisibility Cloaks, of course–sneaked into Dumbledore's office, closing the door behind them._

* * *

Chapter Seventeen-The Flaw in the Plan

As every amateur troublemaker, prankster, or trouble magnet knows (the latter is for Harry's benefit), there is a fine line between an idea–or a plan in this case–and the act, or carrying out of said plan. It is outstandingly easy to wake up one morning and declare, "I'm going to break into the Louvre and steal the_ Mona Lisa_" and then planning it out all down to the very last minute detail. But it's quite another to actually go to Paris, break into the Louvre, and steal one of the most heavily guarded piece of art in existence. As an idea, it has some merit, but as an act it is the most ludicrous, impossible thing one can possibly think of (well, except if you're a wizard, then the act is ridiculously easy). The distinction lies solely on Murphy's Law: "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong." 

Therefore, it's not easy to actually carry out a plan and to actually succeed, if indeed the plan is to break into the Louvre.

This Harry knew quite well, despite the fact that he wasn't planning to break into any museums containing precious pieces of highly guarded art nor would he ever plan to do so in the near future. Extremely well, in fact, since we all know of his adventures and the way he manages to always escape alive. But it wasn't until after he and his friends were safely into Dumbledore's office and had blindfolded all the portraits (with Hermione's hastily whispered "Remember, it's _Obscuro_" and Ron's impatient "We know!"), getting Peter to accept the task of keeping an eye out for Sirius and Dumbledore ("Peter, remember to keep a close eye on that map," Harry stressed, and Peter bobbed his head enthusiastically, clutching at the Marauder's Map like a lifeline) and lastly, casting the _Muffliato _charm ("Um…I learned it from a book," explained Harry weakly–but truthfully–to the others) that his plan, besides being hastily concocted and–pardon my French–half-assed, was also incomplete.

He'd managed to get into Dumbledore's office undiscovered with six other people, (which would be an accomplishment in itself if it weren't for the Marauders), but he'd failed to think of what they would do _after _they had stolen into his office. In other words, all of them were–to put it quite frankly–screwed.

As was Harry when he weakly explained to the others of his sudden realization.

"WHAT DO MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO NEXT?!"

_Well,_ thought Harry, cringing away from Lily, whose face was a strawberry and whose emerald eyes were flashing rather ominously, _At least that solves where I got my CAPS lock tendencies._

All right, he did not actually think that. But he did think of something along those lines anyway.

"I was hoping that I would figure it out when we got here," argued Harry defensively, deciding to ignore how weak his argument was.

"And did you?" demanded Lily, crossing her arms.

"Well…no," Harry admitted, having the grace to look sheepish.

"Nice, Harry," said Hermione, sarcasm leaking into her tone.

"Hey, we've been in all sorts of snits like this before," Ron pointed out, finding it his duty to defend his friend. "And we've been out of them okay."

James was likewise unconcerned. "All we need is a little improvisation," he said nonchalantly. "Let's start at…Dumbledore's desk."

"Prongs, you can't be serious," said Remus, clearly alarmed. "That would be violating his space!"

"If you haven't realized it yet, we're _in _his office without his _permission_," James replied emphatically. "What could possibly be worse than that?"

"Alright, forget the desk," Harry said quickly, forestalling Lily, who opened her mouth to berate James. "We've not much time. We need to at least search for _something_. It could be a letter, or a note, or–"

"A memory." Everyone turned toward Alice, who had spoken for the first time. She had her back to them, staring at the cabinet, open to a fraction of an inch, a bright silver glow shining through the thin slit.

"Excellent!" Ron was exuberant. "Dumbledore'll have dozens of memories of Maira. She was his pupil!"

"And with Natalie and Tanya captive," said Lily thoughtfully, visibly warming up to the idea, "Dumbledore would be searching for clues as to where Natalie and Tanya's been hiding just as we are, so what better place to look for them than in his memories?"

"There's bound to be something," Alice said fairly.

"What say you, Harry?" Hermione asked him.

Harry hesitated. "I dunno, guys," he said quite truthfully. "I've had bad experiences with Pensieves."

Indeed, Harry wasn't at all fond of Pensieves, though he had spent nearly all his time last year going into Dumbledore's Pensieve for his Tom Riddle "lessons". And anyway, he had a particular wariness of them ever since he'd seen Snape's unforgettable memory in fifth year. He knew from experience that a Pensieve was the epitome of all things private and personal. And lastly, the Pensieve could show them any random memory not even remotely to do with what they were searching for. It could be one of Dumbledore dancing the rumba naked for all they knew. Wait…ew. Dispel disturbing mental image, dispel disturbing mental image…

Ron and Hermione exchanged puzzled glances at the sight of Harry's pensive–and slightly disgusted–expression, unaware of his inward battle.

"But Harry, you've been in the Pensieve loads of times last year," Hermione pointed out obviously.

"I know." Harry sighed. "That's why I don't think it's such a good idea. We might see something we're not supposed to see, something personal."

"Like…say, Dumbledore dancing the rumba naked?" suggested James.

Harry blinked. Wow. Maybe his likeness to his father was pass skin-deep. Or maybe it was as a result of hanging around with the Marauders too often. Either way, it was scary.

"James!" Lily smacked him in the arm, causing James to exclaim with a loud, "Ow!" "Don't _ever_ give me that disturbing mental image ever again!"

James rubbed his arm, wincing, making Harry fervently glad that James was the one who had voiced that and not him.

"Anyway, let's just try it," Harry acquiesced hastily, in the progress sounding robustly enthusiastic, keen on preventing another infamous row between James and Lily.

"I'll, uh, get the Pensieve," murmured Remus, as though eager to put some distance between himself and the future couple. He opened the door to the cabinet another inch, as though hesitant to see what was inside. He peeked inside, then almost instantly closed it, turning around to face the bewildered group.

"What is it, Moony?" asked James.

"Well...there's good news and bad news," said Remus awkwardly, as though he was loath to say it. "Which do you prefer me to say?"

_Neither_, Harry thought with a chilly, ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Out loud, however, he said, "The good news."

"The good news is that there are vials with bits of memory in them and they are labeled," Remus answered matter-of-factly.

The group cheered up a bit at this, but Harry still hadn't forgotten the "bad news" part.

"And the bad news?" he forced out.

Remus didn't reply, except to throw open the cabinet doors. They all gasped, then let out a groan. Covering almost every inch of the cabinet space were tiny glass vials filled with the same silvery substance, hundreds of them organized into the first three mahogany shelves.

"The bad news is that there are hundreds of them and we have no clue where to look," finished Remus dismally.

Harry groaned again. Stupid Murphy's Law.

* * *

"…And what's with the whole him-killing-his-wife thing? I mean, I know it was on accident, but that was just gruesome. And stupid. Gruesome and stupid."

"I think it showed how revenge can consume one so thoroughly that it makes one blind to everything, therefore resulting in tragedy."

"…Eh."

In the years to come, Sirius Black would never forget this day. And for once he wasn't even exaggerating. If a few hours ago he'd been told that he would be sitting on the steps of Hogwarts's main entrance with Dumbledore, eating lemon drops and talking endlessly about Muggle musicals, _and _be enjoying the experience, he would've laughed in the person's face…or have them committed to St. Mungo's. As it was, he felt far from laughing now.

It all started out weird and awkward. Well, for Sirius, who wasn't used to talking to Dumbledore outside his office, and he even suspected him to be humoring him. After all, who knew what went on in that silver head of his? The suspicions grew when Dumbledore led him outside into the cool evening air, and offered him a seat. After that he offered Sirius a lemon drop and needless to say he was immediately hooked/in love. Merlin's baggy Y-fronts! Who knew that Muggle sweets could be so tasty and also slightly addicting? No wonder Dumbledore had developed a fondness for them.

There must've been something in those sweets, Sirius thought darkly while he popped in the bittersweet candy in his mouth. Perhaps they should come with a label. WARNING: Has tendency to make buyer blabber on about nonsense while acting in an odd and wholly unorthodox manner in front of one's eccentric headmaster.

Indeed, for in the past fifteen minutes or so (Sirius honestly had no clue) they had talked about and evaluated. Well, more of Dumbledore evaluating and Sirius making blunt comments that either belittle or elevate their significance . They talked about the Sound of Music ("That was so lame," sniggered Sirius), Oklahoma ("That was the lamest musical I ever had the misfortune to see," proclaimed Sirius in disgust) Jesus Christ Superstar ("I really liked that Judas fellow," Sirius remarked. "He was cool."), the Phantom of the Opera ("Irony of ironies: the disfigured, angst-ridden bloke in the mask gets all the love," Sirius said gloomily), the Producers ("That was so hilarious!" laughed Sirius. "I've got to try that sometime!"), Fiddler on the Roof ("I never got that whole guy-playing-a-fiddle thing," complained Sirius. "What was _that _all about?), and, as of a few paragraphs ago, Sweeney Todd.

Their very "deep" conversation was interrupted, however, when they heard a distant splash. They whipped their head around and saw that the usually smooth surface of the lake had been disrupted, huge ripples reaching even the edges of the lake. Although the distance between the school entrance and the lake was considerable, Sirius could see what looked like a bright red flame bobbing up and down in the water…funny, but it looked sort of like a head…

Sirius suddenly felt sick to his stomach. "Um, professor? What are the odds of a person deciding to take a swim in the lake and is being drowned right before our very eyes?"

Needless to say, Sirius and Dumbledore spritned as fast as they could toward the surface of the lake.

* * *

"Well, that's it," Ron announced. "We're screwed."

"Ronald Weasley, we are _not _going to give up now!" Hermione exclaimed shrilly, making everyone glad that _Muffliato _was still in place.

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but caught Harry's warning Don't-Argue-With-Temperamental-Females glance and James' severe hand gesture, and wisely decided to close it.

The situation wasn't as bad as they thought. It was a hell of a lot worse. The vials were labeled, yes, but it was in strange markings and letters and even weird scribbles that Harry and the others had no hope of deciphering. From what they could figure out, the vials were organized in some sort of pattern, but without knowing what the labels said, the pattern would take a good lengthy time in figuring out, time they could not afford. And it also didn't help that _all _of the vials were all _the same freaking size. _Harry wondered for the umpteenth time whether there was somebody up there that really hated him.

Unbeknownst to Harry and co. (but knownst to us), their luck would take a sudden, elevating turn.

Because there was–coincidentally–a vial that just _happened _to be smaller than the others. And it also–coincidentally–had no label.

Coincidentally.

"Do you think _that _is it?" James said dubiously, holding up the small vial to his eyes. "I mean, this could just be Dumbledore's and he just forgot to label it. Maybe he was drunk or something."

"Right," Lily said in a heavy sarcastic drawl. "Because Dumbledore gets drunk on a regular basis."

"Well, he _does _have a lemon drop fetish…" Remus shut up when Lily gave him The Look.

"Guys," said Harry impatiently. "You're missing the point. Sure, it's smaller than the others and has no label, but you are forgetting the note!"

Oh yeah, and did I neglect to mention that a piece of folded parchment with _Dumbledore _scrawled across in unfamiliar penmanship?

To say that the others were shocked at finding something would be an understatement. To say that they were excited would be an even bigger one. In the space of two heartbeats the atmosphere changed from tense and frustrated to charged with an electric excitement that was palpable.

"What are you waiting for, then?" Ron asked in a low voice, his face alight with excitement and curiosity. "Open it!"

With fumbling fingers Harry managed to pry off the note from the vial and opened the folded parchment, revealing a few hastily scrawled words with the same unfamiliar handwriting.

_Dumbledore_, it read,

_Go into the memory. You should be able to piece it together. Don't ask why I'm doing this. Consider this my atonement. _

Harry repressed the urge to groan with difficulty. Yep, someone up there definitely hated him. Why does everything have to be so overly complicated and difficult? This letter is the epitome of vague! It was short and enigmatic, without even a signature or at least _something _that would reveal who wrote it. Whose bright idea was this to write such a confusing letter? Apparently, the others were thinking along the same lines.

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" was James's blunt question.

"I don't get it." Lily's frown was testimony to her statement.

"Well, it's simple, isn't it?" Remus said rhetorically. "We'll have to go into the memory ourselves and find out ourselves."

"Obviously," Harry sighed. He then went over to the desk, where Dumbledore's enormous Pensieve was sitting. He pulled the cork out of the vial and poured its contents into the Pensieve. The silvery substance whirled and swirled and twirled until it revealed a grimy street.

"Ready?" Harry turned to the others and they all nodded resolutely. Harry took a deep breath before tipping his head into the Pensieve. He felt the same familiar disconcerting sensation of falling through nothingness before landing neatly on the hard cement, Ron, Hermione, James, Remus, Lily, and Alice landing beside him. As they had seen, they had landed on an unfamiliar street filled with a few people. It was a little past twilight and the street they were on was nearly empty. They were surrounded by grubby, depressing-looking buildings clearly in need of repair and the weak light of the sky cast the buildings into shadow, making them appear slightly eerie.

Harry decided to ignore the slightly foreboding feeling gnawing inside him and instead looked around for any recognizable figure. He spotted her almost immediately.

"Look!" The others turned at Harry's call and saw the figure instantly. He or she was a few feet away from them, walking briskly away to their destination. Its presence would've gone unnoticed by Harry and the others if they hadn't seen a familiar, burgundy blur flash briefly as the figure rounded the corner…

Harry and co. ran to catch up with Maira, who had an unusually long stride. By the time Maira slowed to a stop two blocks later, her pursuers were a bit breathless. Harry and the others turned to look at the building where Maira had stopped in front of. In stark contrast to the rest of the buildings, this one was a strange combination of fancy and gaudy, tall and mauve, lavishly decorated and brightly lit. A sign hung in front of the building proclaimed, in elegant, cursive lettering, simply _Kate's_. Although Harry had never seen one, he knew, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that it was a brothel. He heard gasps and sharp intakes of breath from behind him, and Harry knew that the others had come to the same conclusion as he did.

Maira only stopped for a minute to glance at the building before she resumed, slipping with ease into an alley on the right, so unnoticeably and silently that Harry was taken aback. The alley was lit by a bright lantern that hung over a door on the left wall, seemingly an alternative entrance to the brothel. Maira stepped into the pool of light and in the brief moment when her features were illuminated Harry had to contain a gasp.

It was the Maira he had met on that fateful Hogsmeade day, but a younger one, no more than sixteen, and a prettier one. The ivory face, dark emerald eyes that looked almost black, and the dark burgundy hair were all the same, though Harry saw that her face was tense and her eyes were relentlessly scrutinizing her surroundings, as though worried she might be followed. The icy foreboding feeling in Harry's stomach moved to his chest as he comprehended that whatever Maira's business in a brothel was, it wasn't pretty…

"_Alohomora_," she whispered, her wand out, and with a small _click_ the door was unlocked. Maira grasped the handle and noiselessly turned and opened the door. Immediately a clamor of noise and talking escaped for a brief second before Maira closed it rapidly behind her. Harry took a deep breath before walking past the door, with the others following him. He reappeared on the other side and the volume of the chatter increased tenfold. Surveying his surroundings, he found that he was in a crowded lobby, also decorated lavishly with bright red or mauve plush furniture, filled to the brim with smartly dressed men and gaudily-clad women that Harry quickly looked away from. There were so many individual conversations that they overlapped each other to create a light buzz, audible over soft jazz. Harry decided not to pay too close attention to the scene and focused instead on locating Maira. But she wasn't anywhere.

That is, until Remus pointed her out, concealed by the shadows on a staircase across the room. Harry blinked, surprised. How she'd gotten there so fast? This new and agile Maira was becoming more and more enigmatic, not that she wasn't before. Harry and the others slipped through the crowd dreamlike and up the stairs, reaching an almost deserted plush hallway with doors lining on both sides. Maira stood in front of the third door on the right, with her palm flat on the mahogany surface, keeping perfectly still.

"Come in," called a woman's voice from inside, making Harry and the others jump in surprise. Maira's face changed from blank impassivity to grim determination. Grasping the door handle tightly she slipped inside, this time with Harry and the others slipping inside before she did. The room, to their surprise, was fancier than anything they have seen yet, with a pair of sofas and blue velvet curtains, sporting a large crackling fire that lit up the otherwise dark room. The only occupant was a tall, middle-aged woman wearing a deep emerald gown, her back to them. As soon as Maira closed the door she turned, and Harry and the others gasped loudly in surprise.

For the resemblance between this unknown woman and Maira was like the resemblance between Harry and James–simply uncanny. They had the same burgundy hair, fair skin, and dark emerald eyes, their faces identical. Even their heights were only three or four inches apart. They could easily be sisters, or aunt and niece…or mother and daughter.

"Hello, Estella," greeted Maira in a cold voice. "Come now; don't you recognize your own daughter?"

* * *

It took the combined efforts of Sirius and Dumbledore to pull the drenched girl out of the lake, coughing and sputtering out water. The girl had bright red hair that was saturated with water and looked to be about sixteen or so. Sirius' mind was reeling. What the hell was going on and what was with people suddenly appearing out of thin air this year?

Dumbledore conjured up a blanket and draped it over the girl's drenched and shivering form.

"Are you alright?" he asked her softly. The girl did not reply, but continued to shake violently.

"Professor, I think she must go to the hospital wing–" Sirius started to say nervously.

"Of course, Mr. Black," interrupted Dumbledore. "Please fetch Madame Pomfrey and tell her that she has a new patient. Quickly, please."

Sirius nodded and headed back into the castle. Dumbledore turned to the shaking girl.

"What's your name?" he asked her gently. The girl coughed some more water out of her lungs before answering.

"G-Ginny," she stuttered, before fainting dead away.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry to be cutting this short, guys, but I did promise you two chapters. And also sorry for the rather cliffhanger ending. So by popular vote I got Ginny to be in there (mind you, it was not my original plan but once I was out of writer's block I suddenly remembered her and thought, "Hey, why not?") and finally the memory (took me a long time to decide). Weighing all of this, the only thing left now is what you think. Personally I'm not fond of this chapter (especially with its flippancy and mercurial mood, but on the other hand it did reveal some interesting background information about Maira that you _might _want to mention in your review -hint, hint-) but review if you think…well, if you have any type of opinion of this chapter. You can tell me that it sucks (which wouldn't be far from the truth) or that it's a masterpiece (a gross overstatement, but whatever) or that it's so-so, it doesn't matter. **

…**I'll even give you a cookie. Or Robert Pattinson if you prefer. :) **


	19. Murder and a Cup of Hot Chocolate

**A/N: Hey guys! Thought I wouldn't update so soon, eh? And right before _Breaking Dawn_! Well, thought wrong! And guess who I have with me? C'mon, guess! Alright, it's Robert Pattinson, RPattz, Spunk Ransom, or whatever you call him. –gestures nonchalantly over to Robert Pattinson tied in a chair–. I had to use every ounce of my cunning to achieve it, but because you guys were such dears, I have achieved the impossible. Lo and behold his sheer magnificence! –brings Robert Pattinson, who is tied to a chair– **

**Robert (furious): Are you bloody mad?! I have a movie to complete!  
Me (flippantly): Oh, I'm not keeping you here indefinitely, Robbie m'darling. Only long enough to sic my lovely reviewers on you. Then you can go back to being Edward.  
Everyone: –looking lustfully at Robert, who suddenly looks very, very nervous–  
Robert (in desperate tones): Miss Author ma'am, I'll do anything–just let me go!  
Me: Don't you worry, Spunk Ransom. They don't bite…hard.  
Everyone Who Asked For Robert: GET HIM! –ogles him and some try to attack him–  
Robert: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! –gets overwhelmed by mob–AHHHHHHHHHH!!**

**Easily scared, eh? Ah well, we love him anyway. Thanks for those who reviewed last chapter and please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: Please, Jo? I promise I'll treat all characters with the respect they deserve...I swear I won't do anything inappropriate to Tommy…fine, ignore me! **–**pouts–**

* * *

_**Previously on "Not Another Time Travel Story!"**_

_As soon as Maira closed the door she turned, and Harry and the others gasped loudly in surprise._

_For the resemblance between this unknown woman and Maira was like the resemblance between Harry and James–simply uncanny. They had the same burgundy hair, fair skin, and dark emerald eyes, their faces identical. Even their heights were only three or four inches apart. They could easily be sisters, or aunt and niece…or mother and daughter. _

"_Hello, Estella," greeted Maira in a cold voice. "Come now; don't you recognize your own daughter?" _

* * *

Chapter 18-Murder and a Cup of Hot Chocolate

The sarcastic words hung in the tense silence that followed. Harry and the others could only look back and forth at Maira, who was as cool as ever, and her newly-declared mother, who only had an expression of mild surprise, stupefied with shock at this (shocking) discovery. They had had no idea that her mother was a whore and they never would have guessed it, not in a million years. Even if they had tried to imagine Maira's life, they wouldn't have considered this possibility. There had to be a catch somehow.

Finally, Estella gave her a faint, though cold smile.

"I knew you would come one day," she said matter-of-factly, seeming to disregard Maira's earlier question. "But I never thought it would be so soon."

Maira raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Oh joy of joys. So you _do _remember me. What a surprise."

Estella ignored the derisive sarcasm and let her smile widen. "It's not really a matter of forgetting, my dear. Not recognizing you would be like forgetting my own face."

Whether she had intended to make a rise out of Maira or not was unclear, but it was obvious by Maira's face hardening that she took the comment as an insult. Without looking at her Maira walked briskly to the nearest sofa and sat down, radiating waves of impatience.

"_Do _make yourself at home," Estella said sarcastically, but otherwise didn't object. Instead, she went to her desk, getting out a bottle of wine from a cupboard underneath, placing on the desk before getting out two identical glasses.

"I was going to get myself a nightcap before you came," Estella said casually. "Want one?"

"All right," Maira replied blandly, noncommittally.

It was unclear how Estella opened the bottle since her back was to them but a few seconds later there was an unnaturally soft _pop _and she had the cork caught firmly between her forefinger and thumb while the bottle began expelling yellow-white foam at the top. The wine trickled musically into the glass, filled to the brim with a rich, dark wine with a barely perceptible tinge of burgundy visible around the rim. She filled the second glass before picking them up gingerly, handing one to Maira, who accepted it with a slight nod, before sitting down across from her. Maira took a tentative sip, while Estella watched her silently.

"So," Estella began. "How's everyone?"

It seemed like a casual enough question to ask, but Maira gave her an odd, slightly suspicious look Harry could not decipher. "Fine," she answered curtly.

Estella tutted. "Now, why don't I believe that?"

Maira said nothing. Her grip on her glass tightened perceptibly.

"Let's try it again, shall we? How's…say, Marcial?"

Something in Maira's eyes flickered for a moment, though her face remained just as impassive. "Oh, all right. Has a bit of a fondness now for the male species, but…" And here she shrugged nonchalantly.

Estella's eyebrows disappeared into her hair and her lips twisted. Maira took a drink from her cup, palpably radiating waves of triumph.

"I see," Estella said shortly after a brief pause. Pausing, she dug one perfect hand into one of the pockets and took out a small cigarette packet. Flicking it open, she got out a thin cigarette, putting one end in her mouth and taking out a lighter, flicking it open. The flame caught and she inhaled deeply, stowing the lighter back in her pocket. A cloud of heavy smoke escaped her mouth as she inhaled, obscuring Maira from view.

"Want one?" Estella offered.

Maira shook her head. "I don't smoke."

Estella shrugged daintily, taking another puff. "And Mia? Last time I saw her she barely reached my knee."

"Well, she's grown up a bit since then," said Maira with a sarcastic drawl. "Six years can do that to a person. But she's well as could be expected."

Estella gave her a smile that looked, oddly enough, more like a sneer. She then asked her a question in an incomprehensible tongue that Harry supposed to be Sylican, and Maira responded automatically in the same fluid language. They were talking too fast for Harry and the others to detect individual syllables and vowels. Conversation lasted for a minute until Estella reverted back to English.

"I'm glad you haven't forgotten your mother tongue," Estella commented idly. "And yet your English is perfect."

"I had no choice in the matter of forgetting," Maira said dryly. "Rocio would blister my ears if I spoke anything but Sylican in her presence."

Estella actually laughed, the sound like a seagull's caw. "You mean she hasn't mellowed at all in her old age? Mother's still the crusty old dragon of my memories. And of my sisters?"

This time Maira did not put up the pretense of subtlety. "Annoying chatterboxes," she said bluntly.

Estella winced sympathetically. "They still are, eh? I should've known. But tell me, how did you learn English so well?"

Maira was silent for a moment, sipping her win. Finally she said, "I'd received my Hogwarts letter, as did Mia and Marcial. As you know, learning English wasn't an option."

There was a silence. Estella froze on this realization, staring intently at Maira through slightly narrowed eyes. Presently she seemed to snap out of it, letting out a sharp exhale.

"Well, that was…shocking. Hogwarts, you say? How the hell did Fernando manage to convince my impossible family? They would have fought tooth and nail not to let you go."

"He was very adamant" was the mere reply.

Estella stared at Maira for a second before scoffing in disbelief. The ashes from her cigarette collected in a gray pile in the tray.

"Well, well," she muttered, more to herself than to Maira. "Fernando has finally gained some backbone. A bit too late, however," she added grimly.

"And that's why you left?" snapped Maira and for a second anger shone in her dark eyes.

Estella merely raised an eyebrow. "I left for many reasons. An unhappy marriage was one of them. You know our marriage was a forced one and even though I enjoyed my various lovers and the power marriage gave me, I was too in love with freedom to relinquish it totally. I put up with Fernando and you three for as long as I could, turning the other cheek at his indiscretions just as he turned the other cheek at mine. Put it simply, it was a miracle that you and your siblings didn't turn out illegitimate." Estella gave a humorless chuckle. "Is that disappointment in your face, dear? As much as you might wish otherwise you're mine and his, unfortunately."

Maira couldn't even look at Estella. "So you left because you didn't give a damn about me or your family to care enough to stay," Maira stated, not asked, a wealth of repressed emotion reverberating in her tone.

"Maira, Maira," Estella said breezily, shaking her head indulgently. "If you had inherited anything other than my looks you might understand. I didn't have the temperament or disposition to be a wife or a mother. I desired so much more than the mundane rituals of everyday life and the wills and wonts of society. To be free was all I ever wanted. But it bears no relevancy whether you do understand or not. But regardless, I can't change the past, just as I can't change myself, if I'd wanted to, which I don't. And I'll bet that you don't want me to either."

The edginess in the silence was palpable. Harry and the others were in a state of perpetual shock and astonishment, tinged with revulsion over Estella's cutting words. It seemed unbelievable for a mother to say such a thing to her child, and Estella's blasé, even indifferent attitude towards abandoning her own family was incredible. Harry couldn't really fault Maira in being cold and hostile towards her, much less now when she was gripping her glass so tightly her knuckles shown white in the flickering fire-light…

And then all of a sudden Maira's attitude changed perceptibly. Her hard face suddenly became bland and indifferent, her tense body relaxing. She set her glass down in a cool, almost unemotional manner.

Estella noticed the change just as Harry and the others did. She sighed, her face grim but resigned as she put out her cigarette in the tray and placed her half-drunk cup.

"Have you decided to act now?" Estella asked coolly. "Pity. I would've liked more time."

"What do you mean?" Maira's tone was even flat.

"My dear," said Estella, her voice curiously frank. "From the moment you appeared here uninvited I knew you were here to kill me. I knew–and rightly so–that my time here on earth was limited. Sooner or later I was going to be killed by some vengeful past lover of mine or even one of my bastard children, or someone who I blackmailed in my younger years to achieve my own ends. That it would be my own daughter that would secure my demise would be the irony of ironies." Estella chuckled blackly.

It seemed that Maira had given up on pretending anymore and was instead looking at her mother with a look of cold hatred that made Harry's hair stand on the nape of his neck. For a second there she looked like the Maira he saw in Hogsmeade.

"Just because I know what you were here for doesn't mean that I have accepted it," said Estella softly, her pretty face darkening a bit. "That cup of yours was poisoned. You should've been dead a while back."

Any normal teenager would be aghast at the revelation that their own mother had tried to poison them, but as Maira was the antithesis of a normal teenager, she didn't look the slightest surprised. In fact, she looked as she had expected the worst of Estella.

"I had built up an immunity to most poisons," Maira replied calmly. "I had thought it would prove quite helpful in dealing with you."

Estella either ignored the insult or was oblivious to it. "A pity. Though exactly what I would do. We have more in common than I thought."

She stood up and so did Maira, who had a look of calm purpose. Estella quirked up an eyebrow.

"My, you clearly are a novice for this," she said disdainfully. "You should've killed me the second you saw me. Instead you did a traditional villain and fraternized with the victim. And now you're forced to face me head on. Rookie mistake."

"And you would know because you'd had prior experience, right?" Maira said cynically.

Estella merely gave a deceptive sweet smile that looked eerily Umbridge-like and Harry decided to take it as confirmation. They started circling each other counterclockwise, their eyes never leaving each other, their bodies unconsciously tensing and relaxing at the same time. They looked like two lionesses ready to pounce at any given moment.

"Yes, most certainly a novice," Estella murmured, her voice soft and sweet and dangerous. "Would you care for me to teach you?"

"Be my guest." And with that Maira wandlessly pushed Estella away with a sharp gesture of her arm, but Estella quickly recovered. Quicker than a thought, a bright ball of light materialized on Estella's palm and shot like a bullet at Maira, who was thrown at the wall, landing in a heap on the floor before Harry and the others' incredulous eyes. A trickle of blood bubbled in the corner of Maira's mouth but she wasted no time in shooting a red beam of light at Estella, who quickly dodged it. Maira got up in a thrice and then the battle started in earnest. The two of them exchanged rapid beams of light that more often than not went askew and hit the walls or the furniture, making burnt marks on the surfaces. The duel proved so exhilarating that James actually started to mutter suggestions on both sides…until everyone looked at him as if he were crazy and instantly shut up. Eventually the attacks stopped and Harry and the others found out who won.

Maira had Estella in a half-Nelson, both of them breathing heavily. Hovering a few inches above her palm Maira's bright green sphere of light was humming madly, dangerously close to Estella's pale face, illuminated by the eerie light of the sphere. Harry felt sick upon seeing it, being reminded of the Avada Kedavra. Estella's dark emerald eyes were fixed on the ball, filled with dark fury.

"Go ahead," Estella whispered fiercely, her breaths coming short and fast. "Kill me if you dare, and then we can go to hell together."

"Only you are going, not me," Maira breathed, her tone of sheer hatred, but Harry couldn't help but notice that Maira's face was a ghostly pale and her eyes contained a strange glint that he recognized as fear…but fear of what?

"Coward." It was clearly a taunt.

Maira's eyes flashed, then hardened with determination. Then, slowly, but steadily, the green ball started to move towards Estella, causing her to struggle widely against Maira's hold, but Maira kept her firmly in place. Before Harry and the others' wide eyes the ball of light started to go _inside_ Estella's chest. Estella's scream of agony lasted a second before it was muffled by Maira's hand, but she struggled more violently than ever. Maira herself looked curiously pained as well, as though it was taking her every ounce of will for her to do this. The more the ball of light went inside, the more Estella's muffled screams increased, and the more Maira's face looked unhealthy and sick. Finally the ball of light went completely inside and Estella's pupil dilated. In the next second Estella's body was engulfed in a green light so bright that they had to shield their eyes. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, hoping, wishing, begging for the green light to go away, for it to all end…

And then the muted green light disappeared from Harry's closed eyelids. Harry waited a few seconds before opening them again and everyone followed suit. Estella was nothing more than a lifeless doll in Maira's arms, and when Maira let go, the older woman collapsed in a heap on the floor, her dark eyes lifeless, unmistakably dead.

Maira collapsed on her knees, clutching a stuffed armchair with a pale, clammy hand, her other hand wrapped firmly around her torso, gasping and shivering in compulsions, her face paler than ever, grimacing from whatever was paining her. To Harry's shock, there were tears streaming down her face–but tears of pain, not of grief. She went into a coughing fit, expelling not blood, but curious puffs of red mist that disappeared in the air in seconds. Forcing herself to stand on shaky legs, she turned and Disapperated just as the scene darkened…

…And Harry and co. found themselves in a small, silent town at night, Maira reappearing in the middle of the road. She wobbled for a moment before instantly collapsing on the ground at arriving to her destination, clearly weak. Then, all of a sudden, there was a loud whisper.

"_Villareal_!"

A tall figure in a black cloak rushed to Maira's side. Harry immediately recognized the voice and when he turned to see who had spoken his bottom fell from his stomach.

"What the hell–Villareal!" Tom Riddle shook her roughly while at the same time gently supporting her. His response was a groan. "What in the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Maira blearily looked at Tom's slightly intense face and gave a weak scowl.

"Oh, no…not you, Riddle…" she said weakly, and she instantly fainted. The scene turned black and Harry felt himself rise, as did everyone. In the next moment they were in Dumbledore's serene office again, all of them pale and shaken by the memory.

They barely had time to recover from the murder they had just been privy to, however, when they heard Peter's distinctive panicky squeak.

"Guys! Dumbledore'll be coming to the office and he'll be here at any moment! We have to leave _now_!"

* * *

Everything was dark and muddled when Ginny regained consciousness. She vaguely heard muffled voices, but it wasn't clear, muddled, as though she were underwater and could not hear them clearly. She heard a door closing as from a distance. Everything was cold and dark and wet and there was a slight pounding in her head that was actually painful. As Ginny shook the cobwebs of sleep, however, she found that she couldn't keep her eyes closed. Groaning she forced them open and was greeted with…white. A blinding white that made her close them almost immediately. But then awareness crept into every cell of her brain and, confused, she forced her eyes open again. This time everything was clearer now and Ginny realized she was, curiously, in the hospital wing. But why…oh!

In a flash Ginny jolted upright and automatically wished she hadn't as the blood went from her head, making her groan.

"Ah, you're awake–no, don't get up! Lie back down…that's the ticket."

Ginny focused on the young mediwitch that looked slightly familiar…"Madame Pomfrey?" she asked weakly. "But…you look so young…"

The young Madame Pomfrey frowned. "How'd you know my name? I believe I know every student in the school and from what Professor Dumbledore told me you weren't a student."

Ginny rubbed her eyes absentmindedly, wondering what the hell she was doing in the hospital wing, of all things. Last time she was conscious she had decided to take swim in the lake early in the morning. Ever since Harry, Ron, and Hermione had disappeared from Hogwarts (setting said castle in an uproar), Snape overthrowing McGonagall and claiming headmastership, not to mention that horrible farce of a class, Dancing Against the Dark Arts (although Ginny did manage to learn some dangerous, rather kickass pirouettes) she had been plagued with insomnia. So she made a habit of wandering the lake. This time she decided to take a swim on a foolish whim, which turned very ghastly. Ginny didn't know quite well what had happened, but she supposed she had fainted in the water. She was immediately jolted to awareness when her head broke the water and two strong hands dragging her to the shore…the one who asked for her name looked like Dumbledore, but it couldn't be, as he was dead…then Ginny remembered with a jolt.

"You said something about Professor Dumbledore?" Ginny asked Madame Pomfrey confusedly.

"Yes," said Madame Pomfrey briskly. "But you are not to go out and talk to him until you're well. You've inhaled quite a lot of water and you're greatly weakened." She shot her a stern look that said quite clearly to Ginny that it would be useless to protest. Ginny sighed and leaned back on her pillow, knowing she had no choice but to give in to Madame Pomfrey's ministrations…for now.

_But once I'm out_, thought Ginny determinedly, _I'll get to the bottom of this_.

* * *

"_Citagé_!"

Maira didn't turn at the voice of her follower, though she caught on to the urgent note in his voice. Nor did she rise from her holey armchair. The room she had chosen to reside in was more for irony than her actually liking the room, for after all the room was in desperate need of repairs from the looks of those tattered drapes and the tattered furniture. No, Maira had chosen this room specifically because it was where she had killed Estella, where she had finally exacted her revenge on the mother who had left her. Maira's hand tightened over the armrest at the mere thought of it.

"What is it, Silvio?" she asked.

She felt his sweeping bow. "_Citagé_, there's been another time traveler who has crossed over the rift."

Maira stiffened at this. "Yet _another _one?"

"Yes, _citagé_."

Maira exhaled sharply. How was it possible? The rift between the past and the future was getting too wide. There have been too many people who have traveled over. First the three mysterious wizards, then that black-haired girl, then the sapphire-eyed Sylican girl who had looked at her with murder in her eyes, and now…who?

"Have you found out about the person?"

"The _veridamen _has revealed that it's a teenage girl from the future, with hair the color of fire…but that's it."

Maira scowled at the lack of information from the truthfinder. The _veridamen _has been acting peculiarly as of late and Maira was beginning to think that it had more mood swings than a pregnant lady. But she wouldn't have had to use it if it weren't for the blasted thief who had stolen _her _silver Time-Turner. It had been a gift from her father when she had turned seventeen, a priceless, powerful object carved by _his_ hands, by _his_ own magic! It was precious to her, and not only because it was from her father, who was one of the only half-decent people she had in her life, but that it could actually transport the user back to the past.

Not that Maira had been planning to use it. She knew that changing time was too dangerous to meddle in. But who knew? There might have been occasion for it one day. But Maira only had it for one year when the unknown thief had stolen it, right from under her very nose! And now it had been used, carelessly, like the user had no idea how to wield it, which was more than likely. Maira burned at the thought of the audacious thief and her fists clenched…soon she would find that unlucky thief and kill him, whoever he was.

But it was curious how the silver Time-Turner had chosen who to send back to the past. Technically, the device could send one into the future or back to the past, though for the time being it had sent people to the past. The three wizards were, of course, the ones who clumsily activated it, but the others were sent purely by the residual silver sand of the device, lingering in the atmosphere. First there was that random black-haired girl who appeared suddenly in Hogwarts grounds…_Tanya_, the _veridamen _clarified. She truly seems random, though Silvio had said he'd noticed that her aura and the aura of that of the Potter girl whom Maira was after were familiar…well, she'd see if Silvio was right in his observations later.

Then came that fiery Sylican girl, covered in time dust, right in Maira's own backyard. She knew immediately that the girl was a half-blood, half Hylidran and half Lilcette, which shocked Maira. Hylidrans and Lilcettes hate each other passionately, even though they were both a type of Sylican. It was like the wizard equivalent of pureblood and Muggleborn–both of them wizards in that they were able to do magic. The feud between the two kinds was based on their differences than anything else. A Hylidran wouldn't dare love a Lilcette, or vice versa–to do so would be banishment, exile. There were exceptions, of course, but the relationship always ends badly and in some cases a bastard child crops up, but rarely. Half-bloods, therefore, are the lowest of the low in Sylican society.

Maira had always fancied herself to be untouched by petty prejudices, but even she couldn't help but feel repulsed at the half-blood, most likely illegitimate. Her upbringing with her Sylican grandmother and aunts–all Lilcettes–had had more impact than she thought on her growing up. Still, her surprise at the girl's parentage was nothing compared to the girl herself.

She hated Maira. That was clear by the way she'd looked at her. The girl had known Maira in her time, even though Maira could safely say that she had never seen her before. Perhaps Maira had killed someone close to her or even her parents themselves–but it was doubtless that the girl wanted to kill her. This didn't disconcert Maira, as she was used to it, but she couldn't help but have the nagging feeling that the girl reminded her of someone…But never mind. Soon Maira would get the answers she needed.

"_Citagé_?"

Maira snapped out of her thoughts at Silvio's words. "Yes?"

"Which one of the prisoners do you want to interrogate first?"

Maira's instinct told her the Potter girl and the time traveler, but they could always wait. The Potter girl was going to die eventually and the Tanya girl didn't seem as important. Perhaps the half-blood first…

"Bring the half-blood to the torture chamber. I'll interrogate her first…"

"As you wish." Silvio bowed again and left the room silently, leaving Maira to her thoughts. Yes, the half-blood first. And if she wasn't significant, then she'll be disposed of, as will the Potter girl and even her companion if it came to that.

Right now, however, Maira wanted answers. And she would get them no matter what the cost.

* * *

**A/N: Whew! Ten pages right there! Sorry to say that this is the last chapter for a while, folks, till I get back from my trip. Hope you're satisfied with this one!**

**Oh, and I made a list of things you might include on your reviews. This is purely for my own entertainment, and maybe even yours, so please don't take it seriously. If you don't, then alright.**

**1. Discuss the lovely, mushy, mother-daughter scene between Maira and Estella and your reaction to said scene (what an "aw" worthy scene…not). Or perhaps your thoughts on Estella herself–now **_**there's**_** an idea. Here are some options I might recommend on using to describe Estella:**

**a. She's a b-i-t-c-h  
b. She's a b-i-t-c-h or  
c. She's a b-i-t-c-h and a whore (literally)**

**You can choose all three if you prefer. :)**

**2. Discuss your reaction to Tom Riddle suddenly appearing out of nowhere or if you're a fangirl like I am, gush over the awesomeness that is Tom Riddle.**

**3. The awesomeness that is Ginny. C'mon, I know some of you like her a lot, from the way you keep referring to her. **

**4. Discuss your puzzlement and bafflement at the strange scene at the end. I mean, what was that all about? Weird…**

**5. Beg to have a turn with Robert Pattinson. He's not going anywhere, ladies. ;) **

**6. Ask for a cookie. I've got tons! **

**7. Comment on any part of the chapter, no matter how insignificant (cough Dancing Against the Dark Arts cough). **

**8. Ask why the heck this chapter's titled "Murder and A Cup of Hot Chocolate" if there isn't a cup of hot chocolate in the first place? Then rant how let down you were because there were no hot chocolate. At least, that's what my dad would do. :) **

**9. Tell me if you actually like the chapter in the first place or if you think it's utter crap. **

**And the lastly:**

**10. Just write whatever you want. **

**Yeah…you can completely disregard this list if you want. I made it last night when I was a bit…loopy. And so the only thing left now is to review…so punch in that handsome lovely purple button and give a shout out. **

**Sylican words-to-know:**

**Veridamen: Verida, Sylican for truth. Derived from the Latin word **_**verita**_**, which means truth and it's the prefix for Veritaserum, by the way. Yay!**

**Citagé: A word I utterly made up at one o'clock in the morning. It's a term of respect. Funny, but I was thinking of the French word **_**sénéchaux**_** from **_**The Da Vinci Code **_**at the time…my mind scares even me sometimes…**


	20. More Twists, Eva, and Sirius' Lemon

**A/N: Hey, guys. I know you lot are probably not happy with me. In fact, I bet many of you want to kill me. For my defense, I have my two-week trip to Colombia and Hurricane Ike and stupid brain-drying school, but you've heard enough of excuses, right? Also, I've got some bad news to impart. You see, when I first came back from my two-week trip (I would like to add that I had finished writing this chapter on paper), I had found out that I had locked up Robert Pattinson in my closet and…er…forgot to let him go. He wasn't at all happy with me, so I decided to let him go. I will miss him, not only because, as they say in Internet jargon, **_**hawt**_**, but also because I just lost the reason why you guys review. And before you can ask, yes, he also took away the cookies. So now all that's left is the joy of this superbly written chapter…**

**Ah, who am I kidding? I'll be lucky if you guys even read this. But please review, as your reviews are what keeps me writing, you know. (By the way, you can all mentally skewer me for the late chapter...in fact, I encourage it.) But whatever, here's the story. **

**Disclaimer: Me no own Harry Potter. Me no Jo. Deal?**

* * *

**_Previously on "Not Another Time Travel Story!"_**

_"_Villareal_!"_

_A tall figure in a black cloak rushed to Maira's side. Harry immediately recognized the voice and when he turned to see who had spoken his bottom fell from his stomach._

_"What the hell–Villareal!" Tom Riddle shook her roughly while at the same time gently supporting her. His response was a groan. "What in the bloody hell are you doing here?"_

_Maira blearily looked at Tom's slightly intense face and gave a weak scowl._

_"Oh, no…not you, Riddle…" she said weakly, and she instantly fainted. The scene turned black and Harry felt himself rise, as did everyone. In the next moment they were in Dumbledore's serene office again, all of them pale and shaken by the memory._

_They barely had time to recover from the murder they had just been privy to, however, when they heard Peter's distinctive panicky squeak._

_"Guys! Dumbledore'll be coming to the office and he'll be here at any moment! We have to leave now!"_

* * *

Chapter Nineteen-More Twists, Eva, and Sirius' Lemon Drop Fetish

**(In Maira's lair–Kate's) **

"_Silvio! Get your stupid, fat, lazy butt from up there and come down here! NOW!"_

Silvio groaned, burying his head in his hands, his fingers entwining through his dark hair as he tried to ignore the loud, obnoxious voice coming from the stone basement, and without success. The sniggers from his comrades weren't helping in the slightest, either. Even Mateo and Pippin, the most idiotic of all them, were coughing to disguise their laughter.

Damn her. Damn that half-blood wench to hell where she belonged.

Ever since that Crystal girl came here at Kate's from the future and saw Silvio, she had been trying to annoy and humiliate him as much as was humanely possible, to death if necessary. Apparently, the wench knew him from the future, had in fact blurted it out on the first day she was here, when she had first clapped eyes on Silvio.

"Good God," she had gasped, sincerely appalled. "Is that you, Silvio? You actually are _handsome_! What the hell happened to you? Or more precisely, what the hell is _going _to happen to you?"

That stung Silvio right to the core. He took pride in his good looks, and it was galling for her to insinuate such a thing. It was even worse that she didn't mean to say it aloud on purpose. Her remarks after that initial first meeting, however, were definitely _not _blurted out accidentally.

"Damn, Silvio, you'd make Narcissus look like bloody Mother Teresa. Can you at least _try _not to be an insufferable popinjay?"

"I can't believe you're still with Maira's little minion so early in the game. So sorry–I guess I overestimated your intelligence."

"Are you and Maira lovers? After all, sexual favors are the only thing you _can _do."

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that every time I see you I think of your ugly face. It still haunts my dreams sometimes."

The Crystal girl seemed determined to make Silvio's life hell by making waspish, sarcastic little remarks that hit their mark at insulting his pride and vanity.

And damn it all, she was succeeding.

It grew to such an extent that Silvio began to have vivid fantasies about curling his fingers around her smooth, silky neck, feeling the gentle pulse beneath his fingers, and then squeezing and choking the life out of that little _putta sangsica_…

"Silvio!"

"Er, what?" Silvio snapped out of his lovely daydream, and looked at Amparo, the cook, who had spoken. He looked around and saw that he was still in the kitchen and that a pint of whiskey was in front of him, and half empty. Amparo clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"When you have that look on your face I know you are thinking bad thoughts," she said reprovingly, a frown crossing her plump face. "How many times do I have to tell you to ignore her?"

"Sure, sure," said one of Silvio's comrades, Manuel. "What do you expect, Amparo? That girl has a razor-sharp tongue! I can barely stand it."

There were murmurs and grunts of agreement from the men, all who too, had to suffer from Crystal's sharp tongue. Amparo harrumphed.

"Well, whenever I'm with her, she's nothing but cordial to me," she said primly.

Her words produced a violent reaction. Silvio nearly choked on his glass, and a silence fell over the group as they stared at Amparo as if just realizing that she lost her mind. Which she probably did, in Silvio's opinion.

"Cordial?" Silvio said weakly.

"And sweet," Amparo added, sounding almost fond.

This time Silvio really did choke on his glass. The man sitting beside him thumped his back.

"Amparo, let me feel your head," said someone boldly. He received a spatula to the head for his cheek. "Ow!"

"I'm serious," Amparo said stubbornly. "Crystal has been an absolute angel around me. I can't imagine why she would act that way with you, Silvio."

"Nor can we," Mateo added, with Pippin nodding his head eagerly in concurrence.

"Really? I can't imagine why," said a man named Arcadio sardonically, while his friend laughed.

"She calls us Tweedledee and Tweedledum!" Mateo continued indignantly, seeming to miss the sarcasm entirely.

"Hmm, I don't know," mused Manuel, adopting a mock-pensive expression. "Perhaps it's the fact that you are…oh, I don't know…complete nitwits?"

"Hey, we are not complete nitwits!" cried Pippin, standing up indignantly–only to hit his head with one of the frying pans hanging from the ceiling. He swore loudly, making the others roar with laughter.

"Not to mention a penchant for physical comedy," Silvio said dryly as Pippin massaged the bruised spot on the head, wincing slightly. "But other than being right about Mateo and Pippin, she's an abomination."

"And again, I say she's been nothing but kind to me," Amparo reiterated with a steely timbre in her voice. "Even cheerful. She's very good-natured."

"Well, that's because you're Amparo," said Gabriel mildly, then shrank back at receiving Amparo's killer glare.

"Which _means_…?"

"Gabriel only meant that you are impossible to dislike," Silvio said quickly, coming to his comrade's rescue and therefore thwarting possible injury.

"I really doubt that," said Amparo wryly, seeming to be pacified.

More than a dozen men assured her of her likability, their voices overlapping with each other.

"All right, all right!" said Amparo exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. "I get it. But what will you do about Crystal?"

"I was contemplating on choking her," Silvio admitted sheepishly.

"Silvio," said Amparo warningly, her face getting red with anger.

"Amparo's right," Arcadio pointed out, reclining on his chair lazily. "Don't choke her."

"_Thank _you, Arcadio," said Amparo wearily, but Arcadio continued.

"It's not that satisfying that way. Throw her into a cooking pot and have her boiled to death."

Arcadio, for his cheek, had to duck to avoid Amparo's red beam of light, which hit the wall behind him and dissolved harmlessly.

"Geez, Amparo, are you trying to kill me?" Arcadio demanded, straightening up in his chair.

"I'm not ruling that possibility out," Amparo said darkly, shooting daggers from her eyes at him.

"I guess I better go," sighed Silvio, reluctant to get up. "I have to go to the girl."

"You don't have to," Manuel said reassuringly. "I'll go and deal with her."

"Thanks, Manuel, but Maira told me to get her specifically. She's going to interrogate her." This seemed to cheer up Silvio slightly, and many of the men had satisfied looks on their faces.

"Maira'll chew her out," Arcadio said gleefully. "She'd be left for dead when she gets through with her."

"I doubt that," Amparo said lightly, calmer now, though still glaring at Arcadio. "Crystal has a very strong will. It will be hard to break her."

"Go on," a man named José encouraged. "What are you waiting for? The sooner she's with Maira the better."

"Besides, you'll have a real pretext this time," said Arcadio, winking suggestively, and many others sniggered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Silvio, but his blush gave him away.

"Sure, sure," said Manuel in a humoring tone, rolling his eyes. "Because you absolutely aren't looking forward to seeing that Bryanston girl."

Silvio inwardly groaned, his hopes brutally shot down. There came the Tanya Teasing, as he'd dubbed it. Really, wasn't it enough that he was attracted to the witch without being teased mercilessly for it?

True, the girl had a crush on him. That fact he'd gleamed over her decidedly coquettish manner towards him and her unnaturally warm smile when she saw him. But damn it, did he _have _to feel like he wanted to smile back? True, she was very pretty with her long ebony hair and unusual–but nevertheless pretty–silver-grey eyes that seemed to perpetually twinkle with either mischief or amusement. But she was sixteen and he was nearly twenty. That was a four-year difference, which was stretching it a bit.

Plus, she was a witch.

And Silvio would rather say "I love you" to his drunkard dad than to dapple with a witch.

Or at least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

"Well, I think Tanya's a lovely girl," said Amparo warmly. "And Natalie as well."

Silvio winced. Ah, the older girl, Natalie. She had taken a dislike of him for some reason that Silvio suspected had something to do with Tanya liking him. Every time he came to the cell Natalie would glare at him like he was the devil's incarnate. Which, in her mind, he probably was. And the times when she wasn't glaring at him she was giving him a keen scrutiny that made Silvio uncomfortable. It was a glance that seemed to pierce right through his soul, making it feel like she was assessing him or something. Which probably was the case. After all, Tanya was her friend. She probably thought Silvio wasn't good enough for her.

_It's nice to feel so loved and appreciated_, Silvio thought acidly as he downed his glass in one gulp.

"Aw, Silvio, don't be like that," complained Arcadio. "You're becoming…er…what's that word again?"

"Emo?" Manuel, of all people, suggested.

"Yeah, that's right," said Arcadio.

"I'm not emo!" Silvio scowled at his so-called friends. "Some friends you are, accusing me of being emo and teasing me about Tanya–"

Arcadio, Manuel, Jose, and Gabriel roared with laughter. Even Mateo and Pippin laughed, and the corners of Amparo's stern mouth suddenly twitched. Silvio felt as though he was melting into a puddle of embarrassment and heartily wished that he would just disappear out of thin air like wizards seem to do.

"So _now _it's Tanya!" Arcadio chortled. "Well, well, well…"

At that moment all Silvio wanted to do was to lie on the ground and die. He was saved by his friends' teasing and his suicidal thoughts, however, when Pilar, Amparo's eighteen-year-old daughter, suddenly burst in through the kitchen door, her countenance wild, and her maroon eyes bright with excitement.

"Mama–guys," she gasped, apparently having run from wherever she came from to relay her news. "I've got news!"

"Apparently," was Arcadio's dry comment.

Amparo gave Arcadio another killer glare, but nevertheless ignored him. "What is it, Pilar?"

"I heard from Jorge who heard it from Isabel who heard it from Jaime who heard it from Lucas who got told by Amaranta, who overheard it from Carmen who was flirting with Aureliano who eavesdropped on Carlos who stole Mateo's socks–"

"WHAT?!" Mateo exclaimed, looking visibly chagrined. "But those were my favorite socks!"

Everyone turned and stared at him.

"Mateo," Amparo said evenly. "Shut up." She then turned to Pilar. "Continue please."

"Well, Carlos was talking to Mina who heard it from Humberto who got told by who heard it from Maira herself…" Pilar finally took a deep breath.

"What?" Arcadio asked impatiently. "C'mon, spit it out!"

Pilar allowed herself one tiny pause, savoring the way everyone's eyes were fixed upon her, even Amparo's, before revealing her super-big, earth-crashing news:

"Eva's coming back."

There was a deafening silence. The earth suddenly jolted to a complete stop for one minute second. A cricket started to chirp in the special, comical way crickets chirp whenever there's a long, especially deep silence. Then, the earth started rotating again, slowly, but this time the opposite way on its axis. Or at least, that's what it felt like to the group in the kitchen. Finally, the words slowly sank into everyone's brain, and they absorbed it like a sponge.

And then everything exploded.

Figuratively.

Pandemonium reigned supreme in the tiny kitchen, but of the good kind–the celebratory kind. The men cheered in jubilation as they were pulling out their celebratory wine and brandy. Amparo didn't even reprimand them, was too busy verbalizing her pleasure, scolding Pilar of not telling them right away, and worrying about whether dinner would be ready when Eva arrived all in the same breath.

As for Silvio, he felt as though a weight was suddenly lifted off his shoulders, and it wasn't only because Pippin saw fit to sit on his shoulders (he was immediately unseated by Silvio, who did not appreciate random people sitting on his shoulders). The news of Eva's arrival was like a bright beacon in the gloomy gloominess of the past week.

"When will she arrive?" Silvio vaguely heard Amparo ask Pilar.

"This evening, I think."

This evening. Well, that could be anywhere from now till midnight, Silvio thought wryly, but it still didn't diminish the bright hopeful bubble welling up in his chest.

Silvio had known Eva all his life. In fact, he was a decade or so younger than she was. It was impossible not to like her and everyone had been real sad to see her go. Silvio even admitted (privately, and to himself) that he once had a secret crush on her. But Eva never viewed him as more than a friend and gradually his insignificant crush subsided into oblivion. Still, though, a talk with Eva would make him feel better. True, his girl problems won't disappear out of thin air (as in, Crystal and Tanya) but perhaps talking with Eva would make him feel better. And it would be great to listen to Eva's helpful, and most often funny, advice.

Everything was going to be alright. Eva was coming back.

* * *

Silvio was loath to leave the happy kitchen, but Maira wasn't what one would call patient, so Silvio decided to go down to the dungeons before Maira got too impatient. Normally he didn't like to go "down there" as he referred it. The dungeons were the epitome of cold, dark, and damp. Add the smell of urine and the occasional scuffling sound of rats, and bingo: the dungeons. Silvio wouldn't even step one foot into the drab stone floor, but as it happened, Maira was very, very scary when angry…

Crystal was there when he got there, leaning on a piece of wall near the bars, whistling a vaguely familiar tune, looking harried, but perfectly nonchalant. Silvio struggled not to choke her right then and there. _Dio_, just seeing her was enough to drive him up a wall! At least Tanya, sitting cross-legged on the floor, beamed when she saw him, which gave Silvio a funny warm feeling in his chest. Natalie, however, crossed her arms over her chest and shot him a killer glare. Silvio managed not to flinch and instead gave her a steady stare before looking at Crystal.

Crystal stopped her whistling and turned to Silvio, as if noticing him for the first time. She cocked her head in one side.

"Hi," she said.

Silvio stared at her. "That's it? You yell out my name and belittle me for the whole bloody building to hear just so you can say 'hi'?" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"Not only that," disagreed Crystal evenly. "You do realize that we have been stuck here for quite a while and haven't had a shred of news?"

"…What?"

"Look," sighed Crystal. "I understand the whole 'must torture prisoners to death by making them wait inordinate amounts of time', but is it really necessary? In the end she'll torture us and blah blah blah and then kill us, so I say cut the bull for once. I am a very impatient and easily bored person…as you would know."

Silvio went very still. "What do you mean?"

"Come off it," Crystal scoffed. "Did you really think I am so sadistic? (_Yes, _Silvio silently answered in his head.) Nah, I am simply bored. Although annoying the heck out of you is fun. And what else is there to do anyway in this dunghill other than make friends out of total strangers?"

Silvio took a step or two back, out of temptation's way, taking slow, deep breaths. "So what you're saying is that you purposely annoy and degrade me for your own selfish amusements?"

Crystal grimaced. "Do you really have to make it sound so bad?"

"Yes."

She rolled her eyes. "You're no fun sometimes, Silvio; you know that, don't you?"

Silvio was about to reply when a surly voice interrupted. "Would you guys just speak English already?"

Silvio looked at Natalie, who was surveying them with a grumpy expression on her face. Crystal suddenly and unexpectedly brightened up.

"Oh yeah, almost forgot," she said, abruptly switching to English. "You haven't been properly introduced to my cell buddies/friends."

"I think I'll pass," Silvio said tartly, switching to English. He knew how to speak the language flawlessly, but he just chose not to. It was such a convoluted and tricky language, not at all Silvio's time and effort. "I already know your…_friends_…so there's no need."

"Me too," Natalie said acidly.

"Why can't we all just be friends?" Crystal gave a mock-sigh. "Tanya has no problem with Silvio, do you Tanya? And I have a feeling Silvio hasn't a problem either."

Silvio and Tanya both blushed at this and seemed to avoid each other's eyes. Natalie scowled at them.

"Enough of this," Silvio said tersely, or as tersely as he could manage. "Maira wants to see you."

"Oh, I'm first?" Crystal asked ironically as Silvio pulled out the cell keys. "Well, you should've said. I'm _so_ touched."

"You can lay off the sarcasm," Silvio said coolly as he opened the cell door and closed it quickly behind Crystal, quickly locking it back up. "Now c'mon. Maira's waiting and Eva's–" He suddenly broke off. He had not meant to mention Eva. What had possessed him to say that?

"Crystal?" Natalie's voice was alarmed.

For Crystal had suddenly froze, her prior teasing countenance now abruptly blank. She didn't move or speak for several seconds. Natalie and Tanya exchanged looks while Silvio stared at her, confused by Crystal's reaction. After about ten seconds, though, she seemed to snap out of it with a tiny, almost nervous laugh.

"So sorry," she said, her voice a little breathless. "I, er, must've heard wrong. For a tiny second there I thought you said Eva."

"I did," Silvio said slowly, frowning in puzzlement.

In a second flat Crystal's face blanched about three shades of white. Still, though, she swallowed audibly and continued.

"But…you don't mean…_Eva_…don't you? Eva as in…Evangeline?"

"How'd you know that?" Silvio asked sharply, but inwardly he was flabbergasted. No one knew Eva's full name except for the people closest to her. Crystal couldn't possibly have known her…could she?

Of course she could.

"How do you know Eva?" Silvio demanded. "Tell me!"

But Crystal did not respond to Silvio's question. Instead, she shook her head and let out of a shaky breath, all bravado gone from her face. She then turned to Natalie and Tanya.

"I'll come back soon," she promised them.

"But Maira'll kill you," said Natalie, fierce concern etched over every line of her features.

"Oh, she'll try," Crystal said confidently. "But you forget. I would say I know Maira like the back of my hand, though frankly, I haven't had occasion to stare at my hand for inordinate amounts of time and memorize every inch of it, so just trust me when I say that I know Maira as well as she knows herself. She won't get to me."

"C'mon, let's go," Silvio said curtly to Crystal, who began to follow him.

"Wait!" They halted at the sound of Tanya's voice. She looked at Crystal with an uncharacteristically earnest expression on her face.

"And of Eva, whoever she is?" she asked, slightly breathlessly. "You seem scared at her."

Crystal's sapphire eyes seemed to tighten a little bit, but then she shrugged nonchalantly.

"If I ever meet Eva," she replied cheerfully, "I'll know exactly what to do."

_Run as fast as I can in the other direction_, Crystal silently continued in her head as she followed Silvio down the corridor.

"Good luck!" called Natalie, her voice echoing slightly behind them.

_Yes,_ Crystal thought silently as she left her newly found friends for what it seemed like the last time, the foreboding pit in her stomach tightening with every step she took. _I'm definitely going to need it. _

Why here? Why _now_? Crystal had thought that someone up there hated her and now she was chagrined to see that she was absolutely right: someone up there _did _indeed hate her. For although Crystal could escape and outwit Maira with one hand tied behind her back, a piece of celery, and a roll of toilet paper (don't ask), but with Eva…now she was a bit trickier. "Trickier", of course, meant something along the lines of "Must Avoid This Person At All Cost". Eva, while beloved to her friends, can be one's worst nightmare to her enemies–namely, Crystal. She was a vicious, unyielding killing machine. Crystal didn't care about meeting Maira again, but Eva…she might as well pack her bags and move far, far away to Timbuktu. Or Guam. Preferably Guam. Because as it happened, no one under Eva's "To Kill" list lived once they were there.

And Crystal happened to be at the top of her list. In the future, of course.

Perhaps it was lucky that Eva didn't know her now. She would merely view her as Maira's victim rather than the girl who happened to blatantly (_And unwisely_, Crystal thought with a wince) insult Eva to her face by calling her a "two-faced little _putta_." If she knew who Crystal was, Eva would have killed her on the spot, with that same cold and undetached way she had. But Crystal didn't kid herself; even in the past, she would be always in Eva's black list.

Crystal decided not to speak a word until she got to the interrogation room, deciding to make use of her time by silently making a prayer to whatever magnanimous/malevolent force up there. She was definitely going to need it.

Eva was coming back. And Crystal was in deep shitake mushrooms.

* * *

**(Back At Hogwarts…finally)**

The Marauders and Golden Trio got safely into the Gryffindor common room in record time without getting caught, and under the Invisibility Cloak, no less. They didn't stop until they were safely in the common room, panting over the exertion of their leg muscles. They were lucky that it was late enough so that the common room was empty.

Harry's mind was reeling. Literally. Like a slideshow, it kept flashing the same scenes from the Pensieve over and over again: Maira's wooden face, Estella's cruel smirk, the overwhelming green light that was too eerily familiar, Estella's dead body, Maira's pained face…he felt his head was going to combust from it all.

The others weren't faring any better either. It was hard, witnessing a death, even in a memory. Everyone seemed unnaturally pale and looking slightly sick. Hermione, however, seemed to have it worse. Her face was entirely bloodless, her eyes as vacant and blank as her expression. Harry knew they wouldn't feel half as bad if someone had just said, "Oh and by the way, Maira killed her mother when she was sixteen. The end." Watching the actual events unfurl as they have was unequivocally worse.

There was so much to talk about, and so little time, but everyone was loath to talk without Sirius present, who had yet to arrive. Luckily Sirius arrived not long after, surprisingly holding a bag of lemon drops and popping the sweets in his mouth.

"So," he said with his mouth full as the others gaped at him. "Did you find what we were looking for?"

It was a question no one was sure of what the answer was. Instead of answering, Harry told Sirius–with the addition of the others–of what they have seen and Sirius listened carefully, still eating his lemon drops, his eyes widening with each word he said.

"…And then Tom Riddle suddenly popped out of nowhere–" Harry was saying.

"Hold on," interrupted James. "That boy was Tom Riddle? _The _Tom Riddle who won an award for Special Services to the school?"

Everyone gaped at him.

"How did you know?" asked Ron weakly, somehow knowing the answer.

"Detention. Trophy room." James shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? There is no originality in detentions."

"_Oh_," said Sirius suddenly, a dawning gleam appearing in his eyes. "_That _Tom Riddle."

"But who exactly _is _he?" Lily asked impatiently. "And what was he doing there?"

"Lord Voldemort," answered Harry tactlessly (as always) and everyone twitched except Peter, who winced.

"You…that was _him_?" Remus was in shock.

"But–how?" Alice said in an uncharacteristically demanding voice. "_He's _the one in the memory? But he's…he's…" Alice struggled with words.

"Drop dead gorgeous?" James answered sarcastically. "I _know_! How did Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome grow up to be Mr. Ugly, Red-Eyed, and Perpetually Noseless? Hell, he'd probably give _Sirius _a run for his money."

At this Sirius began choking on his lemon drop. Hermione muttered, "_Anapneo_" and Sirius' airway cleared up at once.

"_What_?!" Sirius was incredulous. "You mean to tell me that a future psychopathic Dark Lord was handsomer than _me_?" His vanity sounded like it just took a blow to the gut, and Sirius' bottom lip began to jut out a bit into a cute pout.

"Well," said James in a mock-thoughtful voice. "I don't know. Maybe the girls know."

Sirius immediately turned to Lily and Alice, taking the bait. He even turned the all-powerful puppy dog look on them. "Do you think I'm hotter than Tom Riddle?"

The two girls exchanged amused looks.

"Well…hate to break it to you, Sirius…" Lily trailed off in a wry voice.

Sirius' silver-grey eyes widened in chagrin. "No!"

"It's true," Alice said in a convincingly solemn voice.

Sirius struggled for a minute before arranging his expression into an unconcerned one. "It's fine," he said dismissively. "That was a long time ago anyway. Besides, _I _am now Hogwarts' Number One Hottie and he's just a…a murdering prude!"

To everyone's credit, they did _try _to keep straight faces at Sirius' ridiculous pronouncement. It was too bad they completely and utterly failed.

"_Prude_?" James choked out.

"Well, I don't think he's ever had a girlfriend," Harry pointed out, and then added, somewhat dryly, "Too busy planning for world domination, you know."

"What about Maira?" asked Remus shrewdly.

"Improbable though it seems, we _still _don't know whether they dated or not," said Lily frustrated. "At least, not for sure."

"They didn't seem to like each other very much," Alice commented.

"Come off it," Sirius scoffed. "Birds of a feather flock together."

"Maybe they had a relationship later on," Remus suggested. "And besides, who says that they had to date to sleep together?"

"What is this, _Love Connection_?" Harry said desperately, trying to steer the conversation from unpleasant waters. "Let's talk later of Voldemort and Maira's love life. Right now, Natalie and Tanya are at the mercy of a murderess who happened, if you recall, to kill her own mother–"

"No."

Harry broke off, and he and everyone else turned to look quizzically at Hermione, who had spoken at last. She didn't seem to have recovered much. Her face was still pale and her only spoken response was curt and unemotional…and certain.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice was tentative. "What'd you mean?"

"What I meant," said Hermione in a quiet, but confident voice. When everyone still looked confused, she took a deep breath. "Maira did not kill her mother. The memory must be faulty or fabricated or something. It has to be."

Everyone took turns exchanging glances at each other.

"Hermione, you know that it isn't a fabricated memory," said Harry slowly. "Remember Slughorn's copy-and-paste memory? And to fabricate it…it's near impossible."

"Impossible to the average wizard, Harry," said Hermione stubbornly, standing up and pacing. "But in any case, it can't be. It's simply impossible."

"Whoa, whoa," Sirius said, raising his hands like a red traffic light. "Erm, not to be rude or anything, but you seem to be forgetting the teeny, tiny fact that, er, Maira's a rampaging assassin/psychopath/murderess who may or may not have dated Voldemort and _survived_ dating said psychopath. Based on that, I think that she would be capable of killing her mum."

"I can't believe I'm saying this," said Remus, who was shaking his head in dazed disbelief, "but I actually agree with Sirius."

"_No_," Hermione said emphatically, her tone frustrated. "You don't understand. It is _impossible_ for Maira to have killed her mother. If she did, she would have died instantly."

The silence that followed was deafening. The same cricket–incidentally named Larry–began to chirp in the background again.

"I'm lost," Sirius said, scratching the back of his neck. "Am I the only one?"

"No," said Harry, Ron, James, Remus, Lily, and Alice in perfect unison (which was admittedly impressive).

Hermione made a funny, impatient noise at the back of her throat. She ran her hand once through her frizzy mane of brown hair.

"All right," she said briskly. "You remember that I've read about Sylicans, right?" Everyone nodded in confirmation. "Well, in the book I got to the part about familial bonds."

"Familial bonds?" Harry repeated slowly. He had never heard of such a thing. Nor, as he could tell by looking at his friends/relatives, did the others.

"Yes," said Hermione vaguely, still pacing. "It was a strange concept to grasp at first. Apparently there's a kind of invisible link that connects those of immediate family together. Like a bond. It's a very strong, very powerful link."

"Is it physical?" asked Harry, who was curious.

"No, and that's just it. It's purely mental, and unbreakable." At this Hermione's lips pursed. "Or at least, almost unbreakable. The only way to break it is to have a member of your immediate family die…" And here Hermione's face darkened. "Or to kill them."

"So what you're saying is that Maira broke the bond between her and her mother," Lily stated slowly. "That seems to make sense. Why is it impossible?"

"Because," Hermione replied grimly, "It's a crime among Sylicans. If one kills a parent or sibling, he or she would die as well. Immediately. The curse would have backfired on them too. So if Maira had actually succeeded in killing her mother–which I seriously doubt–she would not have lived to tell the tale."

There was a shocked silence in the common room that lasted for about fifteen seconds. And then–

"Okay, can you lot tell me what the _hell _is going on?"

Everyone turned and looked at the speaker. There stood a sixteen-year-old witch with a mane of familiar bright red hair…

* * *

**(Thirty minutes earlier)**

While the Marauders and the Golden Trio were in the common room talking about the memory, our lovely red-haired heroine was taking the role of a martyr when confronted with Madame Pomfrey's…er, less-than-tender administrations. Still, Ginny grinned and bore it–though she didn't grin–and finally Madame Pomfrey reluctantly declared that she was free to go, which Ginny was all too happy to do.

Still, the question of _where _to go quickly became foremost in Ginny's mind.

Everything was so weird. With Pomfrey sudden a decade or two younger and Dumbledore still alive…Ginny's heart squeezed painfully. She could not allow herself to hope. But things _were _different. Even the old stone walls of Hogwarts were visibly younger and shinier than the ones she knew.

Could it be possible that she was in a different time? But that was, Ginny knew, utterly impossible. The Time-Turners of the Ministry of Magic were all destroyed thanks to them and even so Time-Turners could only go back a few hours, not years. Ginny's head swirled around in inconclusive circles and she decided not to think of the matter further until she went to Dumbledore's office. She went there now.

The gargoyle leapt aside at Ginny's "Lemon drops". Ginny climbed the revolving staircase and started to knock on the door when she heard voices on the other side. She hesitated only a second of two before putting her ear to the door. She heard an unfamiliar, though undoubtedly female voice, smooth, silky, and slightly accented.

"…moot point, Dumbledore. Our sources tell us that you might have an idea of Maira's whereabouts."

"Oh, then you've been sadly misinformed," answered Dumbledore's cheerful voice, so alive and vibrant that Ginny had to smother a gasp. "I have no more idea of Maira's whereabouts than you do."

"Oh, we have an idea," the silky voice purred, and Ginny felt a chill running up her spine. "It isn't difficult to put two and two together, and we definitely know Maira very well. After all, we've had the pleasure of taking her under our tutelage."

"I'm certainly am glad you've considered it a pleasure," said Dumbledore cordially, with a hint of steel underlying his tone. "I was under the impression that you had no choice in the matter. Her mother had died before paying the debt she owed to you, and so naturally the duty of paying fell upon Maira's very young shoulders instead of her older brother–whom, I recall, was of age then."

"Your memory is as sharp as ever, Dumbledore," the voice said, many degrees cooler. "But may I remind you that Marcial Villareal became a criminal the moment he decided to join a gang we had the misfortune of hunting down. Therefore the duty fell on the second oldest. And as _I _recall, you intervened on Maira's behalf, insisting that she at least finish Hogwarts before taking her into our care."

"She was clearly more than halfway through her magical education and I saw no reason as to why she shouldn't complete it," replied Dumbledore mildly. "But nevertheless, that was then and Maira has repaid that debt in full. So I see no reason why you are determined to be involved in this ordeal."

"Oh yes," said the voice. "Maira has no debt. However, when she left us, she decided to take many of our…ah…instruments–stolen them, in fact. And as you very well know, Dumbledore, a Sylican, much like the elephant, never forgets. Nor do we forgive past offences lightly." The voice became steely. "I want those instruments back, and we'll surrender her to the authorities accordingly. Eva, too, will be captured and sentenced. So now what I want to know is why you are interfering, Dumbledore. It's a matter of our kind, not yours."

"Ah," said Dumbledore softly. "But you are forgetting, my dear, that Maira has kidnapped two of my students. Therefore, it _is _my matter after all. As headmaster, I have a certain responsibility towards the safety of my students."

"Of course, of course," said the voice quickly, though sounding more dismissive than reassuring. "And the two witches will be returned safely. But," she continued, slightly hardening, "this is, primarily, our job. Maira Rebecca Villareal is the most sought after criminal in our society. She may have witch blood, but ours–and this has been proven–is far more potent. She was born the daughter of the Garcias, a very prestigious and powerful family of our kind. Seven years of magical education cannot erase that fine lineage."

"That is quite true," said Dumbledore calmly. "And you are within your full rights to be involved in the capture of Maira. But as this concerns the safety of my two students, I cannot back down. Nor, unfortunately, can the Ministry."

There was a brief silence. Ginny's head spiraled around in confused circles, growing more confused and more agitated with each word spoken. What on earth were they talking about? It seemed as though they were after this Maira, whoever she was, and that she had captured two students…and it also seemed, based on what she'd heard, that this Maira was not quite a witch, somehow…

"I understand. We shall talk more about this matter in some other occasion, Dumbledore. In the meantime, I can feel our young eavesdropper growing all the more restless."

And with that, the door opened on its own accord. Ginny, who had removed her ear from the door just in time, could only gape at Albus Dumbledore, in the flesh–though zero burnt hand–and a tall, striking woman with silvery-blonde hair gathering in soft billows about her face and pale, diamond-colored eyes. Her skin was a lovely shade of ivory, her high cheekbones contrasting sharply against the sharp curve of her jaw. Despite her shock at Dumbledore being alive, Ginny found her eyes lingering at the strange woman, and shivered inwardly, feeling an aura of power surrounding her like a heady cloud, despite her rather demure appearance.

"You didn't tell me you were expecting company, Dumbledore," said the woman softly, but her diamond eyes seemed fixed on Ginny, who was frozen in her spot as though petrified.

"Indeed, neither had I," said Dumbledore in a polite–though rather amused–tone. "Until now, it seems. I must apologize for cutting this meeting short, Guiletta."

"Not at all," said the woman Guiletta, rising from her chair in one fluid movement. "I am done here anyway. It has been…interesting to meet with you, Dumbledore." She held out her hand, though her eyes remained cool and guarded.

Dumbledore likewise stood and grasped the woman's hand in kind. "As was meeting you, Guiletta."

Guiletta nodded once, then turned with a sweep of her cloak, not even glancing at Ginny as she left the office, closing the door firmly behind her. Ginny stood staring at the spot where the woman was, stunned.

"Take a seat, please," said Dumbledore, looking abruptly weary.

Ginny obeyed, sitting in the same plush chair that the woman had previously occupied.

"Who was that woman, sir?" Ginny blurted out, then blushed at her impulsive question. Dumbledore, however, didn't seem to mind.

"Her name is Guiletta Betancourt, Head of Il Vijilanti Goreó déi la Nozze Infinitá."

Ginny gaped at him as though Dumbledore had just spoken an entirely different language. Which, in fact, he did.

"Er…bless you?" she said tentatively.

Dumbledore had to smile. "Translated loosely, it means the Vigilant Sparrow of the Night, but most just call it The Sparrow. It's the name of the underground Sylican police that uses force and coercion to achieve justice. Thus, its unsavory reputation."

"Sylican?" Ginny repeated with difficulty.

"Sylican. Noun. A species that is born capable of handling and using magic. Of course," Dumbledore added dryly. "That is also the precise–and shortened–definition of wizards. The distinction lies, of course, in the _type _of magic. Sylicans have a different kind of magic than we do."

"I've never heard of them," admitted Ginny.

"Of course not. They've been, for all intents and purposes, been declared nearly extinct by the Ministry of Magic, which is equivalent to dead in their eyes. This made a few remaining Sylicans quite angry, but there was nothing they could do to rectify the Ministry's opinion, of course. And when I mean there are a few Sylicans left, I meant as in pure Sylicans. The race has been mixed with both wizard and Muggle alike, though the Sylican gene has a tendency to cling on rather tenaciously. A good friend of mine had a remarkable aptitude for wandless magic even though his grandmother was only half Sylican. Fascinating."

Ginny thought about it and then said tentatively, "So this Maira you were talking about is a Syl–Sylican?"

"Yes." Dumbledore sighed. "Only half, and yet she is regarded as the brightest Sylican in her kind–if not the most deadly assassin. She attended Hogwarts like a normal witch, both she and her siblings. Nobody knew of her lineage except me. I had thought it would've been more prudent to hide the fact that she and her brother and sister were part Sylican to avoid being shunned by their peers. Everyone assumed, as she was a half-blood, that one of her parents was a Muggle, and not me nor Maira and her siblings rectified that assumption. Of course, I did not deny them the right to tell their friends or someone whom they trusted.

"Through her years at Hogwarts, accidents began to occur that were not satisfactorily explained. Accidents including wandless magic mysteriously performed on students, and most queer of all, wandless magic that was certainly not performed accidentally. I had my suspicions, but Maira was never caught. And I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. Tom Riddle was particularly interested in the incidents of wandless magic and, I believe, suspected too that Maira was the perpetrator behind these attacks."

Ginny stiffened in surprise and shock at hearing Riddle's name. It was not easy to forget the handsome, charismatic boy in the diary whom she had befriended, whom she'd grown fond of…whom she had been controlled by, forced to set the basilisk on unsuspecting students, and whom also turned out to be a future psychopath. Ginny struggled to keep her composure, but even the mere mention of Tom set her teeth on edge.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, noticing Ginny's displeasure. "I assume you know who I'm talking about. How you know, sadly, is a mystery that must go unsolved."

Ginny nodded, her throat thickening.

"But we have other pressing issues to worry about," continued Dumbledore cheerfully. "Such as, you being a time traveler, and the issue of your name."

Ginny gaped at Dumbledore in shock. She swallowed. "H-how did you know I'm a time traveler?" she asked in a wavering voice.

"By your sudden appearance and the fact that I've never seen you before, what else could I guess?" Dumbledore shrugged lightly.

Ginny could not speak. But Dumbledore didn't seem to need a reply.

"By your hair, I assume that you are yet another Weasley," he mused thoughtfully, not asked. "Curiously, the red hair is a mark of every Weasley."

"Yes," admitted Ginny. "I'm Ginny Weasley. But how did you know that?"

"Your brother–I assume your brother is Mr. Ronald Weasley?–has also been accidentally sent to the past along with Miss Granger and Mr. Potter."

Ginny's jaw dropped to the floor. _Ron _was here in the past, of all people? Consciously aware that she was gaping unseemly, she forced her mouth shut.

"Of course," continued Dumbledore, as though Ginny's jaw hadn't dropped in said unseemly way. "They go by Ronald Westley and Harry Peterson. Only Miss Granger's name is unchanged, and that's because she's a Muggleborn and so it wasn't necessary.

"So the only thing left now is to figure out where you will stay. It would be unwise to introduce you as another exchange student as we haven't had an exchange student for fifty years and even having four in one sole year is stretching a bit. It would be pressing our luck and the credibility of the students. In the meantime, I suppose you'll be in the Gryffindor common room unless, of course, you think of a better place of repose. As for your name, you bear too strong a resemblance to Mr. Weasley to give you a different name so I suppose you'll be Ginny Westley."

Ginny nodded. That was an easy enough name to remember.

"Very well. You may leave. The password to the Gryffindor common room is, I believe, 'gluttony'. Goodnight, and good luck."

Ginny stood up, but hesitated. She had just remembered something. "Professor, may I ask one final question?"

"You already did," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling characteristically. "Nevertheless, you may ask me another."

Ginny paused. "Who is Eva?"

There was a silence in the office, except for the whirring of the instruments and Falkes' low trill. Dumbledore's became rather rueful.

"That is precisely what I want to know," he answered. "I confess that the only thing I know about her is her name and that she is, curiously and shockingly enough, the daughter of Maira Villareal."

Ginny started at this piece of news, her eyes widened.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Apparently, Maira had kept the girl a very closely guarded secret. All everyone knew of her was her name. She and Maira stayed a few years at the Goreó, then disappeared without a trace. Nobody saw them ever again. And now I think it's time for you to be going to bed. Goodnight."

"Good night, sir," said Ginny, getting up and turning to leave. She had only just grasped the doorknob when Dumbledore called her back.

"Oh, and Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"Would you be so kind as to tell a one Sirius Black to return my lemon drop bag for me? I'm afraid I'm not dealing very well with its absence."

* * *

**(Present time)**

The Marauders and Golden Trio could only gape at Ginny in open shock and astonishment, as though Ginny had just popped out of thin air. Which is what they thought she did, of course. They simply could not believe that Ginny–_Ginny_, of all people, was here, in the past, and that she was within touching distance instead of twenty years away. And Ginny, although she knew of this beforehand, found herself dizzy at the sight of her friend, brother, ex-boyfriend, and a group of people whom she did not know but could obviously guess who they were, which made her feel even more woozy. And the Marauders were struck dumb by the fact that this was the famous Ginny Weasley, (as they guessed from her red hair…everyone tried hard not to look at Lily) witch extraordinaire, and Harry's ex-girlfriend.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, still overcome by shock. The silence deepened and the cricket (who is incidentally named Larry) came back again to chirp loudly. Finally Ginny could not bear the silence anymore (or the chirping) and said the first thing that popped into her head.

"Sirius," she said, "Dumbledore wants his lemon drop bag back."

Everyone turned and stared at Sirius, who, oddly enough, almost looked like he was blushing, said lemon drop bag resting lightly on his lap.

"I thought you said Dumbledore let you have it?" James said more than asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius had the grace to look sheepish. He gave an embarrassed little half-shrug.

"It was there…?" Sirius trailed off weakly.

At this the tension in the atmosphere dissipated. Harry cleared his throat.

"Guys, this is Ginny Weasley," he introduced weakly, knowing well that she needed no introduction. "Ginny, these are my parents, Remus, Sirius, Peter, and Alice."

This was perhaps the weirdest thing he had ever done, and that included going back in time to save Sirius in third year, overzealous house elves, battling dragons, and all Voldemort's attempts on Harry's life, and that was indeed saying something.

"Hello," said Ginny, deciding to sit awkwardly next to Harry, trying hard to ignore her heart thrumming loudly at their nearness.

"Sayyyyyy…" Sirius elongated the words, his smirk the exact copy of James's.

"Sirius," said Harry warningly. Lily muttered something under her breath about immaturity and boys.

"Prongslet," he whined. "You honestly expect me to say _nothing_."

But Harry's gaze was steady. "No teasing," he proclaimed, "at least, not until this is all over and done with."

"Oh, fine." Sirius pouted, while James sulked. "Steal our thunder."

"So what's happened?" Ginny demanded. "I've just been to Dumbledore's office–_Dumbledore's _office, for Merlin's sake–and I accidentally overheard a conversation about someone named Maira–"

"_Maira_?!"

Ginny stared in bewilderment as the Marauders and Golden Trio exclaimed in unison, sporting identical expression of shock and intense curiosity.

"What did Dumbledore say–"

"Did he say anything about Natalie–"

"What _about _Maira?"

"Stop, stop," Ginny said firmly, calling a halt to all the exclamations. "Let me explain."

That shut them up immediately and they listened attentively to Ginny as she related her tale. When she finished, everything was dead silent, aghast.

"What–"

"The–"

"_Fiddlesticks?!_"

Everyone turned to look at Sirius, who had once again said something that questioned his already dubious sanity.

"What?" Sirius asked in a purely Sirius-fashion, with the cute confused lift of the eyebrow. "It's better than–"

"Anyway," Hermione interjected loudly. "So you mean–"

"–that Maira had a kid? That's what Dumbledore said," said Ginny. "He explained to me who she was, but I don't quite well understand her."

There were a bunch of grim, dark looks at this.

"She's–" James began.

"Awful–"

"Mad–"

"A female Voldemort–"

"Only less so–"

"But still pretty bad–"

"Kind of cool."

"Sirius," Lily said exasperated. "Shut it with the comments, will you?"

"It's true," Sirius argued. "If she wasn't a mad murderess with an agenda to kill our friends–not that Lady Disdain can ever be my friend–and who has been known to kill her own mother and Merlin-knows who else…well, she would be pretty cool in my opinion. She's got spunk."

"Spunk," Lily repeated flatly, as though questioning his sanity.

Remus just shook his head sadly.

"Well, I'd pick Maira over her mother any day." James shuddered. "She's…creepy in that non-creepy sense."

"Like mother, like daughter," sniffed Hermione. "It explains how she got into her ways."

Harry, however, silently agreed with James. There was something about Estella Villareal that made his skin crawl with disgust, as though invisible cockroaches were roaming his skin, much more than Maira ever did. With Maira he could understand her a bit–she and Voldemort had some similarities and that linked them together. But with Estella…it was as though she lacked a consciousness over other people's thoughts and feelings, disregarding them completely and putting her own wants and desires in higher precedence. She seemed to care about no one but herself, and Harry believed that in all her life, from beginning to end she had never regretted a single hurtful thing she did in her life, even when her own daughter secured her fall in the end. He just couldn't find it in himself to dredge up even a slightest bit of pity–after all, Estella deserved it.

"At least she didn't kill anyone for revenge or convenience," said Lily darkly.

"Yes she did," disagreed Alice. "Didn't she smile when Maira accused her of such?"

"It was only insinuated," Remus began, but Ginny had had enough.

"All right," she said slowly. "If someone doesn't explain what the hell is going on I'm going to hex all of you with my Bat-Bogey Hex. So explain. Now."

As it happens, Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew very well of the horrors of Ginny's special Bat-Bogey Hex from second-hand experience and even if the others did not, it was clear from the gleam in Ginny's hazel eyes that she wasn't kidding in the slightest.

So they hastily explained how Maira got to be such a problem and all the things that happened and blah, blah, blah. Ginny frowned thoughtfully as she listened.

"So let me get this straight," Ginny said slowly when they finished. "Natalie–James's cousin who I did not know existed until now–and Tanya–yet another time traveler–were captured by Maira, an assassin who's after Natalie's blood because her father–who is not really her father–spurned her, and you think that Maira's holding them at her mother's old work-place–which is a _brothel_, of all places–and you want to go there and rescue them in Maira's lair with who knows how many people who, by the way, aren't wizards at all, but Sylicans and we have no idea if our branch magic will work against them but we're still going to try. Is that all?"

Everyone mulled over Ginny's words.

"Er, pretty much, yeah," said Sirius, nodding.

Ginny blinked once, then twice, then thrice for good measure.

"Wow." She looked dazed. "Wow. That's…wow."

That was about all she could say, but Harry couldn't really blame her for her ineloquence. He knew it was a bit overwhelming for anyone being told such a wealth of information given. Ginny seemed to snap out of it presently though, shaking her head slightly. She stood up briskly.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" she demanded. "Let's go! We're wasting time!"

"Wait, what is this 'we' business?" Ron said indignantly. "_You're_ not going!"

"The hell I'm not," Ginny cried, affronted. "I want to go, I want to help–"

"No," said Harry firmly. "It's too–"

"_Don't_," Ginny interjected sharply, her eyes blazing, "you dare say that that it's too dangerous, Harry James Potter, or I'll–"

"But it's true," Harry interrupted. "And you can't deny it."

"That doesn't mean that it makes it right for you to go off and do your saving-people thing while I stay here and do absolutely _nothing_!"

"Too bad," Harry said coolly, standing up. "Because that's what you'll be doing."

Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You did not just say that."

"I just did."

They glared at each other as the others looked at them back and forth, back and forth, as though watching a tennis match.

"Harry," Hermione said hesitantly. "Maybe Ginny can–" She broke off when Ron shot her a look–he was clearly on Harry's side.

"I won't endanger one more life," Harry said obstinately. "I won't have one more life in my debt."

But his resolve was weakening as he stared at Ginny's blazing, earnest face. Harry turned away, struggling not to yield to temptation.

"How many times do I have to put it through your thick skull?" Ginny said through gritted teeth. "I'll be _fine_. Let me worry about my own safety for once."

"That's the problem," muttered Harry, but his resolve shook.

Ginny seized her chance. She stepped closer to Harry, locking her hazel eyes against his emerald ones, her expression softer, but no less determined. Harry's heart started doing the tango.

"I can't promise you that I won't be all right," she said calmly. "Nobody can. But if you leave without me, you'll have to chuck me in the loony bin because I swear I'll go mad. I wouldn't stand the suspense or the fact that you lot are out there risking your necks for a minute. I'm asking this one last time: _please _let me go with you."

It was unclear whether it was Ginny's soft, though firm voice, her close proximity, the way she said _please _in that earnest tone of hers, or his heart alternating from the tango to the samba to the cha-cha to the mambo, or James miming an eager "yes" behind Ginny's back (having first rate experience with temperamental redheads) or Sirius winking at him suggestively (no idea why), or Larry cricket suddenly chirping the tune of Elvis's "Can't Help Falling In Love", but Harry suddenly exhaled sharply, unconsciously running a hand through his hair, and for a moment he looked so much like James that Lily inhaled sharply and James and Sirius were dazed.

"Weird," muttered James, still sounding dazed.

Harry sighed, ignoring James. Her emerald eyes were resigned.

"If something happens to you–if you get even the smallest bit hurt–I put the blame entirely on your shoulders," he said sternly. "Same goes for the rest of you."

Ginny beamed in triumph and for a moment she looked positively radiant. Harry resisted the urge to hug her or do something equally as rash. Ron didn't look at all happy, but he did not contest the decision. The Marauders exchanged looks.

"You know, Remus," Sirius said in a conversational tone. "I am struck by a funny feeling of déjà vu."

"How strange," said Remus dryly, deciding to play along. Both of them looked pointedly at Harry and Ginny, then at James and Lily. The two couples blushed at the insinuation.

"Padfoot?"

"Yeah, Prongs?"

"Shut up."

"What is this, Tell-Sirius-To-Shut-Up Day?" Sirius asked indignantly, rolling his eyes.

"What? Didn't you get the memo?" Lily, of all people, asked innocently.

"We could've sworn we sent it," said Ron.

"All right, enough with the ribbing," said Sirius, annoyed. "Now, can we get back to the subject we were discussing? Such as, how will we get to the brothel if we don't know where it is?"

"It's on Number 19, Carriage Lane," answered Alice.

Everyone turned to look at her quizzically, and she blushed.

"I saw the street name," Alice explained sheepishly. "And the town name right above it, but it was only the initials G.H."

"G.H.," Harry repeated, feeling a slight prick of remembrance. "G.H…"

Suddenly, an image floated almost lazily into his mind: a crossroads, and a wooden signpost sticking on opposite ends that read, "Great Hangleton, 5 miles" and "Little Hangleton, 1 mile". Great Hangleton…L.H.

Harry suddenly felt sick to the pit of his stomach. Everything fell into place like neat pieces of the puzzle.

Estella had worked in Great Hangleton, a mere five miles away from Little Hangleton and Maira came to kill her…when? The summer before her fifth year? About the same time as Tom went to Little Hangleton to kill his father and grandparents and overpower his uncle. Or perhaps the _exact _same time.

It made Harry's mind spin to think of it.

Was it Fate or just pure coincidence? An accident or destiny? It seemed rather silly to introduce such hokey concepts, but how else would Tom Riddle, of all people, managed to be there, probably Apparating to the nearest town, just in time to save the day, so to speak (although thinking about Tom Riddle in any kind of heroic fashion was ludicrous). But one thing was for certain–there was no doubt that Maira was holding Natalie and Tanya hostage at her mother's old workplace.

Harry exchanged looks with Ron and Hermione and they immediately grasped the message.

"You know where it is?!" Hermione exclaimed, making everyone jump.

"Yes," Harry confirmed verbally. "G.H. Great Hangleton. Which is, incidentally, close to–"

"Little Hangleton," Ron and Hermione whispered in shock.

"Where Voldemort killed his dad and grandparents, right?" Ron confirmed.

"What?!" the others exclaimed loudly.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "I think that's why Tom Riddle was there. Maira had Apparated in Great Hangleton, just as Tom Riddle finished killing his dad and grandparents and was leaving the Riddle Manor…well, that's what I think," he added awkwardly.

There was a brief silence.

"Wow." Sirius was as eloquent as ever.

"That's just…" Lily struggled for the right word.

"A coincidence?" James suggested.

"Yes," Lily answered.

"So now all that's left is to decide on the transportation," said Hermione decisively, her voice authoritative. "For ten people."

"Hang on, not all of can go," Harry protested. "For one thing, we're too many. We don't have ten brooms or can set up an unauthorized Portkey or Floo out of here. Nor," he added when Ginny opened her mouth to speak, "can we just get ten thestrals."

"We attracted six last time," Ginny muttered defensively.

"That was when Harry and I were both covered in blood," Hermione pointed out.

"Hey, nobody is getting covered in blood," said Remus uneasily, visibly worried with all the talk of blood.

"What are thestrals?" Sirius asked, confused.

"They're the ones pulling the carriages," James, of all people replied. "Only ones who've seen death can see them." At the quizzical look on Harry's face, he explained, "I saw my granddad die in his deathbed."

"Can they travel great distances?" queried Sirius, looking more and more intrigued by the idea.

"Yeah, we went all the way to the Ministry in London once to–" Hermione froze, suddenly breaking off, but everyone didn't notice.

"Cool," Sirius remarked, visibly impressed.

"We're still too many, though," Harry pointed out. "Someone has to sit out."

"Peter," Ron, Ginny, and Sirius said simultaneously.

"Okay," Peter quickly said, nearly faint with relief. It was clear as mud that he was scared to death.

Harry swallowed with disgust, turning to the others. "Anyone else? Lily?"

But Lily gave him such a withering glance that Harry quickly move on. "James?"

All he got was a disbelieving snort and a "Are you kidding me?" Harry sighed, mentally cursing whoever it was that inherited both his parents' stubborn and noble genes.

Harry turned to Alice. "Alice?" he asked.

To his surprise, Alice set her jaw and shook her head. She obviously had more grit that he gave her credit for.

"Sirius?"

"Shut up, Prongslet. Just shut up."

Harry took that as a no. "Remus?"

Remus sighed. "Harry, I thought you knew me better that, both here and in the future," he said in a censuring tone.

Finally, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione.

"Don't even ask," Ron said darkly as Hermione glared.

Harry sighed. Stupid, noble friends. "Fine, fine! Now let's go and get those thestrals before I change my mind."

* * *

The thestrals themselves were very easy to find, despite the fact that more than half the group couldn't see them. It was as if the thestrals had sensed their urgent need to go someplace. Or perhaps they smelled the nice, delicious scent of raw meat the Marauders had filched from the kitchens. That too.

In mere minutes they've managed to draw nine thestrals, one of whom was named "Fred" by a fond James, which caused a fierce debate over the sex of "Fred" and the others' objections to that name when it was suddenly stopped by Sirius, who wondered briefly how "Audrey" looked like. After that talk of the thestrals names stopped abruptly.

Harry and James managed to get on rather easily and even Ron, Hermione, and Ginny managed to remember how to get in the damned invisible creatures after going through it two years before, but Lily, Alice, Remus, and Sirius needed some assistance, on that James was only too happy to provide for an annoyed Lily, but she grudgingly contended with his assistance. Harry was seriously starting to wonder had been conceived on a night of drunken passion and that they were married at wandpoint.

When everyone was seated, Harry said the address to his thestral, and the others mimicked his action. The nine thestrals lifted noisily in the air and soared through the midnight blue sky already sprinkled with a few stars. Once again Harry experienced the uncomfortable feeling of ridding on a thestral, the cool night air biting at his face.

And so they journeyed once again (for the Trio, anyway), going to experience yet another exciting and very dangerous adventure. But little did they know that this particular adventure would not only be exciting and fraught with mortal peril (as per usual), but will be saturated with an odd combination of deadly insanity and jaw-dropping hilarity. This time, their lives would not be the only thing in danger, but also their ribs. In that case, there's simply only one thing to say:

God help them. God help them all.

* * *

**A/N: And God help me, for such a late update and such a long chapter –winces-. This has got to be a new record. 10, 630 words! The next chapter will certainly not be that long. Never again, I tell you, will I ever make a chapter that insanely long! And now, onto Points to Ponder!**

**1. Express your surprise/shock/indifference to the fact that Maira had a kid. But with whom? And what is Eva's real name? Who _is _Eva to begin with? **

**ment on Sirius newfound lemon drop obsession and lemon drop bag theft and suggest that there **_**is **_**a special place in rehab for those dealing with lemon drop obsessions…remember, Sirius, first you recognize that you have a problem, then get help!**

**3. Estella bashing! It's so much fun! :D**

**4. The awesomeness of Ginny Weasley! You have just this chapter to gush over her. Give it up for the redhead, guys). And also, he got to meet the guys, after all, and Harry. Hope I portrayed her correctly!**

**5. WTF? Silvio and Tanya? As in, Silvio **_**with **_**Tanya? Has the author gone temporarily mad? Discuss this odd new romantic twist and also Sirius's inevitable reaction. All I can say to that regard is this: poor Silvio…**

**6. The reason for Tom Riddle's sudden appearance has been revealed! Squee! Praise the author for her incomparable genius…or not. –laughs nervously-. **

**7. The chapter itself if you loved/liked/disliked/hated it. That's all! **

**8. Anything you want. About this chapter, of course. **

**Sylican Words-To-Know:**

**1. Putta Sangsica–literally means, "Half-blood whore". Yeah, Silvio really hates Crystal…**

**2. Putta–a whore. Very, very offensive in Sylican. You'll be in big trouble if someone catches you saying that word...**


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